


When We Were Young

by Ftballfangrl



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Angst, Football, Future, M/M, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2020-03-06 02:07:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 41,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18841444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ftballfangrl/pseuds/Ftballfangrl
Summary: Eric Dier left Tottenham Hotspur in the Summer of 2019 in a shock last minute move to Porto. It's been five years and he's been invited back to Spurs for a celebratory event. He hasn't seen Dele since the World Cup in 2022 and he hasn't spoken to him in over a year. Will this be a chance for Eric to set the record straight? Will they finally be able to address the demons that still chase Eric from his sleep all these years later? Or is five years too long and has Dele filled the gap that Eric left when he decided to leave?





	1. Ghosts

_THFC_

_Invitation for Eric Dier and plus one_

_We would like to invite you to our special dinner event_

_in celebration of players past and present_

_Please RSVP to the number provided by April 30th_

_We look forward to seeing you there._

_Tottenham Hotspur Football Club_

_To Dare Is To Do_

 

 

The crumpled invitation lay open on the hotel room desk, creased at all four corners from where he had worried at its edges. Tearing his eyes away from the words ‘and plus one’ for what felt like the hundredth time Eric pulled at his collar and walked towards the full length mirror at the other end of the room. His mouth turned up at the corner slightly as he considered his reflection. It had been five years since he’d worn a deep navy Hugo Boss suit and it felt a little strange. He fingered at the silver cufflinks marked with the team crest, his own pair that he’d managed to dig out from the back of his wardrobe back in Porto. This would be the first time he’d been back to Tottenham Hotspur stadium since he had left. There had been chances for his old team to cross his path but the European cup draws had so far allowed him to avoid it.

He’d received the invitation in the middle of March, arriving home from practice to see a white and blue envelop imprinted with that famous Cockerel on his doormat. His initial reaction to the invite had been surprise. The way he’d left the club hadn’t exactly made him feel like he would be welcomed back with open arms. Although the British press had overstated the falling out he’d had with the manager about what position he was best suited too, it hadn’t been a particularly pleasant experience. The move to Porto had come right at the end of the Summer transfer window, when Eric felt like he had no other choice. Leaving Spurs had been the hardest thing he’d ever had to do but he’d got through it and five years into his time at Porto he’d worked himself up to being one of the key senior players in the first team. He was enjoying life, he loved Portugal and felt more at home there than he’d ever done in London. Yet when he’d opened the invitation, his hands shaking slightly, all those memories he’d done so well to block out had come rushing back. And now here he was. Stood in a hotel room in North London about to go and spend a night in the company of a lot of people he hadn’t spoken to properly for quite some time.

A loud knock broke him out of his reverie. “Your car is ready for you Mr Dier,”a muffled voice told him from behind the door. “I’ll be right there,” he shouted back, grimacing at the crack in his voice at the end of the sentence, something he had never been able to grow out of. He grabbed his wallet and phone from the bedside table, took a deep breath in attempt to quell the anxiety bubbling in his stomach and opened the hotel room door. 

***

_H: You still coming tonight big man?_

The message flashed up on his phones lock screen and despite himself Eric couldn’t help but smile. Out of everyone it had been Harry that had made sure he’d kept in regular contact for the last five years. Others still messaged him every now and then, to say Happy Birthday or sometimes to congratulate him when Porto won a trophy but nothing more.

_You: Yeah on my way now._

He fired off the reply, adding a thumbs up emoji. He scrolled back through their last few messages, brushing his thumb against the side of the screen. He counted seven swipes in his head and tapped the screen to stop the conversation from flying past.

_H: Eric mate you have to come._

_You: Not sure it’s a good idea H mate_

_H: I heard him asking Helen if you’d RSVP’d_

He hadn’t even had to mention anything specific to Harry and he’d known. They’d played the same conversation out three more times before Eric had finally formally accepted the invitation. That had been two weeks ago and his head had been a complete mess ever since. He flicked back to his chat history and scrolled down until his thumb came to rest on his name. He’d lost count how many times over the last few days he had found himself staring at this particular screen, that little blue line flashing, daring him to write something.

_Delboy. Last seen today at 18:55._

Eric rubbed his free hand over his head. The friction of his buzz cut against his palm as he stared at the last message in the chat resurrected memories he could do without.

_27th February 2023_

_You: The press are full of shit._

Those two little blue ticks had haunted him for months after he’d sent the message. The lack of a reply had left him feeling like he was staring into the abyss. There had been times over the last year where his finger had been hovering over the send button. Sometimes the message was an essay, his soul laid out in black and white. Other times it was a simple hello or an emoji that once held a secret meaning. He’d never sent them, not a single one. He didn’t even know if Dele had seen the stories, the headlines.

_Ex-Spurs star glad he made the move away from London’_

_‘Eric Dier: How his relationship with certain Spurs players influenced his decision to leave’_

Eric had been used to the press speculating about his career. They’d always loved to spin stories about his future at the end of every season, particularly if they thought he’d had a bad one. The chaos his exit from Spurs had caused had roiled on long after he’d settled himself at Porto. Those headlines had come four and a half years after he’d left, rehashed because he’d been made captain. The articles had been made up of complete shit. Fabricated quotes from interviews that had never happened. As always his relationship with Dele was the main focus. It had been a source of entertainment for the press for so long that it shouldn’t have been any surprise that they’d twist it to fit their means after he’d left. What had surprised him was the fact that they’d still used it as fodder to fill their column inches after such a long stretch of time. He remembered opening the link his sister had sent him and seeing red as the article put words in his mouth. That it had become too much, that he felt he was being held back, that his friendship with Dele was a show, put on for the social media generation.

It was so far from the truth of it all that even now, over a year on, he couldn’t help but swear under his breath. His driver looked up and briefly met his gaze in the rear view mirror. Eric shook his head and looked back down at his phone.

 _Delboy. Active now._  

Eric’s heart jumped slightly and he exited the chat. He glanced out of the window just as Tottenham Hotspur stadium came into view. It never failed to amaze him that he’d played and scored in such a place. It had only been for a short time but he could still hear the roar of the crowd as he’d scored his last home goal against Everton, could still hear the fans singing his name. He still thought about that game from time to time. The lads had swarmed him in the dressing room, congratulating him on his goal. The image of them all taking the piss and singing his chant entered his mind as the driver pulled into the drop off area. Out of all of it, the goal, the fans it was that moment that came back most when he thought of that day. Because all he could see was Dele. Dele standing up to join in. Dele stalking towards him. Dele grasping his face between his hands and not blinking once, his voice a whisper compared to the cacophony of their team mates as his lips curved around his name.

_‘I love Eric Dier. Eric Dier loves me.’_

***

Eric’s gaze snapped back into focus as the driver pulled open his car door. “Have a good evening Mr Dier,” he commented as Eric unfolded himself from the car. He nodded his head in response and set off toward the bright lights of the executive entrance.

_H: Do you want me to come down and meet you?_

Harry’s message came through just as Eric stepped through the big glass doors. He looked around him, the feeling of being a stranger in a place he had once called home hitting him with brute force.

_You: Nah mate. I’m on my way up. I can remember my way around._

He knew that wasn’t why Harry had asked. He knew that he should probably take him up on the offer. Walking in with Harry would probably soften the blow, make him and everyone else feel more at ease. But he needed to do it on his own. He couldn’t stomach the idea of small talk, not when he needed to psyche himself up to walk into a room full of people he hadn’t seen together in one place for five years. No, as much as he appreciated Harry making an effort, he needed to do it alone.

The low thump of music aided in his search for the correct function room. He came to face a pair of large, black double doors, the faint murmur of conversation and the thought of what faced him once he opened them making his mouth feel dry. His fingers had just wrapped around the coolmetal of the handle when he heard movement behind him. He paused and turned around, his stomach plummeting as a pair of deep, hazel eyes met his gaze.

Eric’s pulse roared in his ears and he was rooted to the spot. He tried to form words, to make his lips move, to say anything. But he couldn’t do it. Instead he dropped his stare and glanced at the second person stood in front of him.

“Alright Dier?” Kyle Walker-Peters said as he reached out to pull the left door open. 

“How’s it going?” Eric replied, his voice cracking again.

“Shall I meet you inside Del?” Kyle asked, casting a furtive glance between the pair of them.

Eric’s whole body felt like it was burning as Dele levelled him with a stare. He fought not to look away, to not show any sign that he was currently in free fall. Dele tilted his head to the slide slightly, as though he were on the edge of saying something. Eric thought he saw a hint of something in his eyes, softness maybe, but it was gone in a flash. The silence between them seemed to stretch out and fill with the ghosts of memories that were once the bedrock of who they were. Dele’s gaze slid to Kyle and he slowly shook his head.

“Nah, I’m good,” he answered and walked past Eric, not looking at him again. 


	2. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He wondered what Dele was feeling. How reliving all of this was making him feel. Did his heart feel as though it was going to burst through is chest? Was his head roaring? Was he reliving that night the same way he now was?

 

The sight of a number of large round tables and the thought of having to navigate to find his seat filled Eric with dread as he walked further into the room. His encounter with Dele had knocked him off centre and all he wanted to do was turn around and walk away from what the rest of the night had in store for him. 

“Dier, big man, long time no see,” an accented lilt drew him from his thoughts and Eric smiled as Jan Vertonghen slapped a strong hand on his shoulder. 

“Alright Jan, how’s retirement treating you?”

“Ahh it’s OK, still wake up every morning as though I have training. Apparently it takes a few years to get over that.” The laughter in Jan’s eyes put Eric at ease. He’d always been that kind of character in the dressing room, he was glad to see the Belgian hadn’t changed.

“Ladies and gentlemen if you could please take your seats, food will be served shortly.” The announcer's voice caused a stir of movement as people drifted away from conversations to find their tables. Eric furrowed his brow, realising that he’d missed the seating plan on the way in. Jan had lifted a hand, telling him he’d catch up with him about Porto later. He looked around the room trying to spot where they’d placed the plan so he could find his table as quickly as possible. 

“Dier! Over here,” another familiar voice sounded and Eric looked to his right to find Danny Rose waving his hand in the air, motioning for him to join them. He quickly scanned the table as he made his way over and his heart rate slowed slightly when he saw there was only room left for him. His eyes swept the rest of the room as he pulled out his chair. A jolt went through him as his eyes met Dele’s who was seated at the table directly next to his. As he sat down he realised they were right in each other’s eye line. Eric’s cheeks burned and he tore his eyes away, nodding at Danny, pretending he’d heard whatever it was that he’d said. It felt like it was going to be a long night. 

***

The plates had been cleared away and the lights in the room had been dimmed. A huge screen now dominated the stage where the announcer stood, microphone in hand, ready to speak. A small smattering of applause sounded round the room as a shot of the stadium faded too black. They had been treated to a compilation of Spurs from the past leading into the present, highlighting the amazing work the academy players had been doing recently. Eric shifted in his seat, there’d been a few clips from his time there, although not many. He was about to lean forward and comment on exactly that but the announcer stepped forward, waving his free arm towards the four tables situated closest to him. 

“Some of you may have noticed there were some very obvious omissions from that little presentation. Tottenham Hotspur has an illustrious past, we have had some fantastic players walk on our hallowed turf. We have just paid homage to part of that history. What I think we can all agree on however is that the arrival of Mauricio Pochettino in 2014 ushered in a new era at this club. An era that has seen us start challenging up there with the very best clubs, an era that has seen us win not one but two Champions League trophies and an era that has gone on to breed our very own crop of English World Cup winners.”

Someone somewhere at the back of the room let out a wooping noise and a few other people followed. Harry looked round the table and nodded his head when he caught Eric’s eye. Eric inclined his head in response whilst patting Danny of the shoulder. His hand dropped back to his lap and he began fiddling with the edge of his blazer. He kept his eyes trained on the stage, hoping that his smile looked natural. The mention of the Champions League and World Cup wins should have made him feel invincible but instead his heart had started to hammer again, his ribcage felt tight. He knew what was coming, knew what they were about to show and all of a sudden the room felt like it had shrunk. 

“I look around the tables in front of me and I see all of those players who were integral to the success Spurs have been able to enjoy. I see players who served us well but have since moved on. I see players who are enjoying retirement. And I see players who still give their all on the pitch for us every week. That being said the club has put together another little montage to celebrate the special group of players that we owe so much of our thanks too.”

With a flourish of his hand towards the screen the announcer stepped backwards. This time the lights were turned completely off and Harry’s voice filled the room as an old training video clip flickered onto the screen. “It’s a great group of lads we’ve got here. There’s a real togetherness, we’re all in it for the same thing. We have a laugh but we work hard. We want to win things.” Eric saw Harry shift in his seat, clearly embarrassed over how young he sounded. The clip was from 2017 and a few chuckles emitted from the tables as people commented on how bloody young they all looked. Kieran barked out a laugh as they watched a close up of him falling over the ball. Eric couldn’t help but smile and laugh along as the video progressed, showing highlights from training, home games and away games. 

Just as he felt like he could relax and actually enjoy watching some of the best years of his life play out before him the video cut to a short clip of Dele nutmegging him during training. Eric’s cheeks burned and he saw Harry glance at him out of the corner of his eye. 

“There’s some great partnerships in the team. Of course we all work really well together but you know it’s natural for people to gravitate towards each other.” The sound of Dele’s voice made his stomach plummet and it felt as though every single nerve in his body was screaming. Clips of Jan and Toby, Harry and Lucas, Sonny and several different players rolled across the screen. Each was accompanied by the players talking about one another, praising each others skills, talking about their friendships on and off the pitch. Eric clenched his hands into fists, the skin pulled white over his knuckles. He couldn’t take his eyes off the screen, he counted the seconds hoping that whoever had put together the montage had been told not to include them. 

His desperate hope was unfounded and his throat closed up as he heard his own voice start talking about Dele. “He’s a special player. Yeah we’ve got this special connection, I suppose you could say, on and off the pitch. We just clicked y’know.” He felt sick, like he couldn’t breath. Images of him and Dele celebrating flashed in front of his eyes. Clips from their various Spurs TV appearances intermingled among them. Everyone on his table was casting furtive glances at him but he forced himself to keep looking straight ahead. He could get through this, could act like it wasn’t bothering him. Surely it would be over soon and the video would go back to showing clips of the whole team. 

That thought was cut short as the montage cut to another clip and the room tilted on its axis. The screen was filled with Spurs players celebrating wildly. Jumping on top of each other, tears in the their eyes. They’d just beaten Liverpool 2-1 to win their first ever Champions League trophy. Dele had scored in the 91st minute to seal the win. He watched as Harry, Son and Sissoko jumped around, delight written on their faces. He saw Llorente, Jan and Toby piled on the floor, shouting incoherently at each other. He saw Poch in tears, on his knees in the middle of the pitch. 

And then, there they were. Dele was on the floor, exhausted from giving absolutely everything. The memory started to play in his head, a few seconds ahead of what he was watching. He could feel the adrenaline that had coursed through him as he’d run onto the pitch from the bench. He could remember how his vision had zoned in on Dele, how he’d ran past everyone to get to him. His heart ached as he watched himself fall on top of Dele, as he saw Dele wrap his arms around his torso. His pulse roared in his ears as the image of them nose to nose filled the screen, their eyes fixed on each other. 

As quick as the image had appeared it was gone again, the montage moving on to the next highlight. But Eric’s vision was blurred. He stole a furtive glance over his shoulder and saw Dele looking down at his lap. He wondered what Dele was thinking. How reliving all of this was making him feel. Did his heart feel as though it was going to burst through is chest? Was his head roaring? Was he reliving that night the same way he now was? Because for Eric the memories of that night did not stop with the celebrations on the pitch. Even now he could feel his skin burning under Dele’s touch. Could feel the pressure of his lips as they’d succumbed to the heady need to release the tension that had been building for what had felt like forever. 

The team had arrived back at the hotel, in a raucous mess of chants and dancing. Eric hadn’t been able to concentrate on the coach ride back, the feel of Dele’s breath on his neck at the end of the match and the overwhelming urge he’d had to kiss him on the pitch had messed with his head. Dele had sat next to him as usual but the feeling of his thigh against his own as Dele had played around on instalive made Eric feel as though he were falling apart. As they’d all piled off the coach, Coco had tried to jump on Eric but Dele had grabbed his elbow, pulling him back. Eric had given him a curious look and was about to ask him what the hell was up when Dele had grabbed his other arm and backed him up against the coach. He’d barely had a chance to breath before Dele’s lips had crashed onto his, their teeth clattering together. It was messy, and aggressive and without thinking Eric’s hands were grabbing at Dele’s neck, his fingers digging in to the dip between his jaw and his ear. Dele’s hands were under Eric’s shirt and he felt as though his fingerprints would be branded on to his skin as Dele ran his hands over his back, grabbing at his sides, pulling him forwards to deepen the kiss. 

“Dier mate, you OK?” a hand clapping him on the shoulder bought him back to the present and he shook his head, attempting to rid the ghost of Dele’s mouth from his mind. Harry was looking at him, his eyes coloured with concern. He shook his head again and stood up abruptly. Muttering something about needing some air, he pushed his way past the table. Without thinking he had made a path straight to Dele’s table and he stopped just short as he realised. He looked up to find Dele staring straight at him. The mixture of emotions in his gaze told Eric that Dele was reliving that kiss and where they had ended up that night as well. The sight of him sat there in his suit mixed with the image of him naked, reaching up to pull Eric down on to him and it was all Eric could do not to fall to his knees. Taking a short breath he tore his eyes away from Dele and carried on walking across the room until he’d pushed through the heavy black doors and out into the solace of the corridor outside. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here I am, a Liverpool fan writing about Spurs winning the CL. What has this pairing done to me?!


	3. Longing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Why are you here?” the question seared through Eric, a knife through his chest. He swallowed, his eyes searching Dele’s face.

_H: Musics on now, you are missing Sonny’s moves. Where are you?_

_Danny: Dier mate want a drink?_

Eric’s phone pinged with messages and he grabbed it from his pocket, clicking it to silent. He hadn’t been able to go back into the room, hadn’t wanted to feel everyone’s eyes on him. Most people would probably have come to the conclusion that he was emotional about rewatching his days as a Spurs player. He could imagine the comments being passed round the other tables. About how sad it was that he’d left, that he should have just listened to Poch, that they were surprised he was here. 

So instead he’d walked, letting his legs carry him down familiar hallways. There was something cathedral like about an empty football stadium. The air was still and the pictures adorning the walls, mixed with famous quotes from the clubs history made Eric feel as though he were in a museum. He remembered how excited they had all been, to be the team that called this place home. He’d found himself standing in front of the entrance to the dressing room, staring at the word Spurs, running his hand along the curved wall as he slowly entered the room. 

The lights were off, the room bathed in shadows. Instinctively he walked over to his old space, imagining his name and the number 15 on the screen above it. He sat down, slumping against the cool metal of the locker door behind him. Dressing rooms were special places. Some would argue that the pitch was the most important place in a football stadium, that the moments that were created out there on the turf were what players held close. And they were, of course they were. But as Eric sat there he could hear the echoes of the memories he held in this room. He could hear Harry shouting at them to get their act together. He could hear Poch raving about how they needed to take the same energy into the second half. He could hear the cheers as they celebrated  the first win in the new stadium. Those memories were loud, clambering to be remembered. And then there were those smaller memories, the softer ones that happened between the big moments. The Uno tournaments that went on for weeks. The dance competitions that he always tried to avoid. The in jokes created between team mates. The words of encouragement and support when they opened up to each other. 

Then there were those memories that he shared with only one other. His eyes drifted over to a seat near the other end of the curved bench and he shifted forward, placing his elbows on his knees. The image of Dele dancing on the spot, rapping along to a Drake song as he pulled off his grass stained shirt made his heart constrict in his chest. The night they’d won the Champion’s League had been a culmination of thousands of those smaller moments. It had started as a joke. The fact that they were so close had not slipped past anyone. Their bromance was played upon by everyone, including themselves. And that’s all it had been for a while. Dele was a flirty character and Eric responded to that side of him. It had all felt so natural and he supposed that the both of them were so used to being that way with each other that they themselves hadn’t seen the shift. And then he’d scored that penalty against Colombia and everything had changed. 

Eric shook his head, attempting to chase away the image of Dele turning to him wide eyed when they’d got back to the hotel. The celebrations the fans had seen on the pitch had carried on well into the night and they’d all cheered when the gaffer had allowed them to have a few drinks, opening a tab behind the bar. The videos of the wild celebrations back home had started to filter through to their phones and they had all crowded round, unable to believe that they had created those scenes. Eric had hung back at one point, the reality of what he had just been part of hitting him. He had sipped his beer, smiling as his team mates started their own rendition of Three Lions, climbing on to chairs and tables. Dele had spotted him and broke away from the crowd, making Kyle Walker topple over in the process. The wide grin on Dele’s face had made Eric’s stomach leap. 

“Hey there Mr penalty shoot out hero,” Dele had remarked his words slurring slightly before coming to a stop just inches in front of him. Eric had let out a short laugh and titled his head to the side. A jolt had shot through him as Dele had leaned forward to place his bottle on the table behind them. He’d started to pull back but stopped and Eric’s pulse had raced as Dele had leaned in and whispered into his ear. “I’ve never wanted to kiss anybody so bad in my life as I did when that penalty went in.”

Eric had stiffened and then tried to laugh the comment off. “Well I’m guessing you would have wanted to do the same to Vardy if he’d actually been fit enough to take it,” he’d remarked. Dele had stepped back but only enough so that he was mere inches from Eric’s face. 

"I think we both know that’s not true.”

It was so easy to just let it happen. Eric’s eye had flicked between Dele’s and his lips, his pulse roaring in his ears drowning out the sound of the rest of the room. He couldn’t deny in that moment that he hadn’t thought about this before. That he hadn’t found himself staring at Dele in the dressing room as he got changed, his mind wandering to places he should have felt uncomfortable with. He should have cared that they were in a room full of their team mates, he should have put a hand on Dele’s shoulder and laughed it off making a comment about their bromance. But he hadn’t. Instead he had let Dele close the gap between them and the moment Dele’s lips had touched his with the lightest of kisses it had felt like his whole body was on fire. 

***

The sound of footsteps bought Eric back to reality and he almost fell off the seat when he looked up to see Dele starting straight at him. 

“Shit, I’ll go,” Dele murmured, turning on his heels. Eric shot up and held out both his hands. 

“No, no I’ll go, I shouldn’t be down here anyway.”

Dele stopped, his back still turned. Eric saw a muscle jump in his jaw and he fought the urge to step forward, to close the gap between them even by just an inch. His heart was thumping so hard in his chest he wouldn’t have been surprised if Dele could hear it. Dele titled his head slightly as if to say something over his shoulder and then shook his head. He started to walk forwards again and Eric lurched forward. 

“Del,” his voice was small and the feel of his name on Eric’s lip felt strange and he realised it was probably the first time he’d said it out loud for a very long time. Dele stilled once more and let out a long breath. He span round and the look of hurt and confusion on his face made Eric’s knees go weak. 

“Why are you here?” the question seared through Eric, a knife through his chest. He swallowed, his eyes searching Dele’s face. 

“I was invited and H said that I should come. I wasn’t planning on coming but he convinced me. He said that you’d as-“

“What that I’d asked if you were coming? Got your hopes up for a reunion did you?”

“No Del, that’s not it at all. Look I’ll go, I’ll go back to my hotel right now and you can forget I was ever here.”

Eric made to walk out of the room and almost yelled out in surprise when he felt a hand grip his elbow. He stopped dead, shoulder to shoulder with Dele. The pair of them stood in silence for a few seconds, their eyes locked in a stare. Eric fought to find words, any words that he could say to cut through the tension. But Dele got there before him.

“I hated you.”

Eric was sure the words would be branded on his mind forever, that he would never stop replaying the way Dele had all but whispered them, a hitch in his voice. He felt like a hot poker had been skewered through is heart and he pulled his arm free from Dele’s grip. He walked three steps back into the room and ran a hand over his face. 

"You think I wanted things to be like this between us? You think I like the fact we’re now basically complete strangers?” his voice was loud and he held out his hands, gesturing between them. 

Dele shook his head, a hateful smirk on his face. With two steps he was in front of Eric, their faces inches apart. Both of them were breathing heavily and without thinking Eric glanced down at Dele’s lips the memories he had been reliving earlier swarming his mind. 

“I hated you. Do you know what that felt like? I never thought I could feel that way about you but I did. And then there you fucking are tonight in that damn suit and I just,” Dele cut his sentence short and licked his bottom lip. Eric’s stomach tightened but he stayed still. 

“You just what Del?” he breathed, not able to look away from Dele’s mouth. 

Without warning Dele’s mouth was on his. Their teeth clattered together and Dele bit down hard on his bottom lip sending a shock of pain down his spine. Eric bit back and the feel of Dele’s tongue sweeping along the seam of his lips elicited a groan from the back of his throat. Dele bought his hands up to Eric’s chest and pushed him back until Eric’s back collided with the wall. The kiss deepened and it was Dele’s turn to let out a stifled moan as Eric ran his tongue over the roof his mouth. He pulled back and planted small kisses along Eric’s jaw, stopping at the dip between his jaw and his ear. Eric let out a strangled “fuck” as Dele nipped at the sensitive skin and then sucked on the same spot. He paused for a second and Eric took the opportunity to grab his shoulders and spin Dele round, pinning him against the wall. Dele ran his thumb over Eric’s bottom lip and pulled in him to another kiss. Eric placed one hand against the wall and cupped the other under Dele’s chin, his finger tips caressing his neck.

He felt like he was flying, like he was drowning and like he was drinking for the first time in years all at the same time. The kiss was aggressive and forceful, as though they were both trying to purge every emotion they had both felt for the last five years. Nothing made sense but it also felt like suddenly everything did and Eric didn’t want this moment to stop. 

A loud laugh from somewhere outside the dressing room caused Dele to snap his head back. Eric dropped his arms to his side as he saw the heat leave Dele’s eyes. 

“Shit, fuck. What the fuck are we doing?”

“Del, please,”

“No, no. We shouldn’t be, oh god. I need to go.”

“Stay.”

The word sounded desperate, pleading. He didn’t know what had just happened, didn’t know what it meant. He wanted to shout that it was Dele that had kissed him, that he had not started any of this, that it wasn’t fair. His heart was pounding and his mind was racing. The only thing he knew for sure was that he was scared. Scared that if Dele left, if he walked away from him that he might never get this chance again. 

“I can’t. I have to. I have to go.”

“Please Del,”

Dele shook his head and started to back towards the door. Eric took one step forward and Dele held a hand up. “Eric,” Dele’s voice saying his name unravelled him and he stood there, rooted to the spot as he watched him turn around and walk out, wondering if he’d just missed his one chance to put things right. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear these boys are not having a good time right now. You will get the backstory about what happened between them at some point I promise!


	4. Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Let’s play the Eric Dier tells everyone why this song means absolutely fuck all game.”

He’d found his way back to the party, his heart pounding in his chest. He could still feel Dele’s hands, the taste of his lips and hear the sound of his voice whispering his name as he sat there surrounded by his ex team mates. Ex team mates who were getting progressively more inebriated as the night went on. It was late and they’d all retired to the players hotel lounge. Eric had planned to duck out once they’d left the party but a few of the guys had protested, saying they missed him too much for him to disappear. So he found himself lounging in a chair, nursing a strong drink as he tried his hardest to ignore the fact that Dele was only a few feet away.

“Ok who’s song is next?” Harry Winks shouted, holding his phone out towards where they were all sat. Mousa was stood next to him and he whispered something into Harry’s ear, eliciting a big grin from the English man. “Eric Dier, come on down,” Harry said, exaggerating the syllables in his name. Eric couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of Harry waving his arms around in the air. He shook his head and waved his hand to the side, indicating that he didn’t want a song.

“Come on man. You are about the only one who hasn’t picked one! Well, apart from Dele.” Harry pointed at the him as he spoke and Eric’s stomach dropped as a flash of inspiration ran across his face. “How’s about I choose one for the both of you? Little throwback?” He was practically jumping up and down on the spot as he pointed to the screen, nudging Mousa as he pressed play.

He knew what was coming and yet heat still rose in his cheeks as he heard the opening beats of the song. Harry was dancing along, completely oblivious to the havoc he was about to cause. Eric sat still, leaning back in his chair not wanting to look across the room. He didn’t want to see what Dele was doing. Didn’t want to know how this was making him feel. A few of the others twigged to what the song was and a chorus of laughter rang round the room.

“Dier this was your jam back in the day man. Thinking you were smooth as fuck,” Ben said as he tried to pull off a move, nearly spilling his drink in the process. Eric shook his head, flipping him his middle finger.

“I did not think I was smooth as fuck,” he said, attempting to relax and join in with the banter. He took a sip from his drink and laughed as a few of them tried to sing a long to the lyrics. “Come on Dier, show us how it’s done!” Harry shouted, grabbing hold of his hand. It was comical enough that someone the size of Harry was trying to pull someone the size of Eric on to his feet but the added effect of the three shots Eric had seen Harry down not ten minutes previous meant that the endeavour ended with Harry on the floor and Eric still sat in his seat.“Forgot how much of a fucking mountain you are Dier,” Harry giggled as he pulled himself back up. Eric raised his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders.

“Well if Dier wants to be a party pooper what about you Del? You remember this song don’t you?” Harry turned around and walked over to the sofa where Dele was lounging next to Kyle. Eric shifted slightly in his seat so that he could see them out of the corner of his eye. He saw Dele’s gaze slide towards him and he smiled at Ben who had just said something he’d not actually heard.

“Nah Winksy, just another song to me this one. Nothing special about it.” Dele’s voice was deadpan and he went back to looking at his phone, leaving Harry stood in front of him looking confused. Eric’s ears were ringing, a mixture of anger and hurt roiling in his stomach. He knew Dele was lying but hearing him say that there was nothing special about the song that had been part of the soundtrack to so many of their private moments made him feel as though he’d be flayed open. The image of his car in a lay-by and Dele above him, face contorted with pleasure assaulted his vision but Harry’s voice pulled him back to the present.

“Really Del? Because I am pretty sure I remember you playing this song on, like, repeat when this one left!”

Shouts filled the room as Dele flew up from the sofa and placed his hand around Harry’s face, shoving him backwards. H and Jan were there in an instant, pulling them apart. Eric had jumped up during the commotion and he froze as he realised he had headed straight for Dele. He stood still, lost in the no mans land between where he should stay and where he wanted to be.

Dele’s eyes were wide and his breath was heavy. He shrugged Jan’s hands off him and picked his drink up, taking a long sip from the bottle. “This song means nothing so put something else on,” he was talking to Harry but his stare was levelled at Eric. The challenge in his eyes made Eric clench his fists and he didn’t drop his gaze.

“You heard the guy Harry. It means nothing,” he made sure his voice was even, imitating the deadpan tone Dele had used earlier. A flash of hurt passed across Dele’s features but it was gone in an instant, replaced with a hardness that made Eric’s heart pang. The air had gone still in the room around them and although the music was still playing, everyone else had fallen silent.

He’d warned H that this wasn’t a good idea. Everyone else was aware that him and Dele hadn’t exactly left things on good terms but only H knew the exact reasons why. To most people in the room this probably just looked liked two people with a grudge confronting on another. But it was so much more than that and Eric could feel the tightrope they were walking on begin to sway. Dele’s eyes narrowed and he took a step forward, lifting his drink up to Eric.

“Cheers to that, finally something we can agree on.”

“Del.”

“Don’t Del me. I know. Let’s play a game.”

No-one spoke, no-one moved. They were all staring at the pair of them in the middle of the room, waiting to see what happened next. Dele opened his arms out and looked around at them all. He tapped a finger to his brow and then pointed it at Eric.

“Let’s play the Eric Dier tells everyone why this song means absolutely fuck all game.”

It felt as though he’d been punched in the stomach. The air left his lungs and the room tilted on its axis. He felt H appear at his side, a steadying hand on his shoulder. He looked at Dele and underneath the bravado he could see the pain. He could see the hurt and betrayal that he still felt, the anger that he still harboured, all these years later.

“Tell them Eric. Go on tell them.” Dele swayed to the side slightly, his drink sloshing all over his hand. His voice had wavered and Eric saw Kyle move closer to him, his face coloured with concern.

“Dele mate, maybe you need to step outside,” H commented, pointing towards the door. Dele let out a dry, humourless laugh. He looked around the room again and crossed his arms across his chest.

“No. The game isn’t finished. We’re all so close in this room aren’t we? We like to share things.”

“Dele, think about what you are doing. Is this really what you want?”

Dele shook his head, a wry smile snaking its way on to his face. “I am H, mate. And what I really want is for Eric to tell everyone here how he shagged me and then decided to piss off to Portugal.”

Eric’s whole body burned as he felt every single one of his old team mates snap their heads towards him and he could feel the threat of tears burning his eyes.

“Fuck you Dele,” he whispered. And this time it was his turn to walk out of the door.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst, its everywhere. . .
> 
> (10 points to Gryffindor if you can guess the song)


	5. Interlude: 1.0

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The feeling that they’d jumped off the edge into an unknown abyss, that they were in free fall and the only thing that could save them was each other.

* * *

“Clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose. Love a good caption don’t you,” Dele walked out of the bathroom, laughing down at his phone. Eric smirked and shrugged his shoulders, not taking his eyes off his own phone. The notifications hadn’t stopped since the end of the game and he’d had to switch the alerts off. The adrenaline was still coursing through his bloodstream and he had already lost count at how many times he’d rewatched Dele’s winning goal. They had done it, they’d won the Champions League. He didn’t think he’d ever get over those words.

“I’m going to have to come up with a better caption for mine now aren’t I?” Dele quipped and Eric flinched as he shoved his phone in his face. He pushed it back slightly so he could actually see the screen and his cheeks warmed. It was a photo of the two of them, Dele lay on the floor with Eric over the top of him. Eric’s mouth was level with Dele’s ear and Dele’s hands were on Eric’s cheeks. It was a moment of pure elation, a celebration between two friends.

And that’s all it had been until Dele had pushed Eric up against the team bus and kissed him. Again. And then walked off as if nothing had happened, a little swagger to his step.

Eric had taken a few moments to catch his breath and allow other parts of himself to calm down before he’d followed. Dele had caught his eye as he’d walked into the hotel foyer and Eric had had to look away, the want in the younger guys stare making his stomach flip. After they had all taken some press photos and done a few interviews the gaffer had told them all to go and get ready because they were going to celebrate. Everyone had filtered towards the lifts, chanting ‘campiones’ as they went.

Dele had entered their hotel room and gone straight into the bathroom, the sound of running water telling Eric he’d jumped in the shower. Eric had dropped down on the end of the bed, trying to think about anything other than Dele being naked not even ten feet away from him. So he’d turned to twitter and immersed himself in reliving the miracle he’d just been part of.

“Well? What shall I put?” Dele asked, prodding him on the arm. Eric was about to tell him to stop being childish but his eyes fell on the exposed V of Dele’s hips and all coherent thought ceased to exist. Dele cocked his head to the side and smirked. He was wearing nothing but a towel, rivulets of water  running down his stomach. Eric swallowed and mentally traced the contours of his abs. The urge to reach out and run his fingers along the rough cotton of the towel, to paint his fingerprints on Dele’s skin hit him so hard his hands ached. He raised his arm slightly, daring himself to do it but he faltered. Dele took a step forward, chucking his phone on the bed and the air stilled between them.

Shit.

Dele nudged Eric’s knees apart and stepped forward again. The musky smell of Dele’s shower gel filled Eric’s senses and he felt his dick harden.

Shit.

He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against Dele’s abdomen. A thousand thoughts clambered for attention but he pushed them all aside, all except one.

“Kiss me again.”

He whispered the words onto Dele’s skin, pressing his lips against the hard plain of his hip bone. Dele shifted slightly and knelt down, cupping his hands on the back of Eric’s neck. His brown eyes searched Eric’s face and he bit his bottom lip, making Eric’s dick twitch.

The kiss was light, a barely there whisper that had him leaning in for more instantly. Dele smiled against his mouth and dragged his tongue along Eric’s top lip. Eric responded with a moan as he opened his mouth. Dele tasted of peppermint toothpaste and Eric moaned again as his tongue swept across the roof of his mouth. Their hands were grabbing at each other, pulling hair, digging into skin and Eric felt as though if he let go he would melt away. 

Dele tugged at the hem of Eric’s t-shirt and they broke apart so that he could lift it over his head. The look of lust on Dele’s face as he raked his eyes over his body made Eric feel as though he were coming undone at the seams.

“I want you. I want you so bad,” he whispered, throwing his head back as Dele peppered kisses across his chest. He hissed out a breath as he felt teeth graze against his nipple and his hips bucked upwards. Dele lifted his head up and then glanced down at his crotch. Eric felt his heart contract as Dele ran a hand down his stomach, bringing it to rest just above the top of his joggers. Their eyes met again and Eric found himself nodding at the question in Dele’s gaze.

Shit.

His pulse roared in his ears as Dele pushed him backwards so he was resting on his elbows. His breath was heavy and it hitched as he lifted off the bed slightly, allowing Dele to tug at the waistband of his joggers and his boxers at the same time. The cool air against his skin combined with the feeling of his erection being free and he felt his vision blur at the edges before anything had even happened.

He bit his lip with a cocky smile as he heard Dele mutter the word ‘fuck’ and he tried to muster the words to ask what he meant by that but the breath emptied out of his lungs as Dele wrapped his hand around his dick, rubbing his thumb over the tip, spreading the precome over the length of him before starting up a steady rhythm.

Fuck it felt good.

Dele’s lips teased against his hips as he carried on working his hand, adding different amounts of pressure and speed. He couldn’t think straight, could hardly think about anything past how good Dele’s hand felt. He could feel the pressure building, his fingers beginning to curl. Was this really happening? Was he really receiving the best hand job he’d ever had from his best friend? If it hadn’t felt so fucking good, so fucking right, then he might have stopped it there and then. But he couldn’t, not when Dele seemed to know exactly what to do to keep edging him closer without letting him fall.

Dele paused and Eric almost swore.

“I want you to come in my mouth.”

The words were abrupt and matter of fact, as though it were the most natural thing for Dele to say. He looked up at Eric, his mouth open, breathing heavy. The sight of him between his knees, the promise of what was going to happen next painted on his face almost made Eric unravel.

“Do you want to come in my mouth Eric?”

The sound of his name and the tease of Dele’s breath on his dick had him nodding vigorously. Dele placed his lips around the tip, pressing down lightly and Eric’s vision went white. The hot, wetness of his tongue and the tight feel of his mouth as he took in the whole length of him drew a string of expletives from Eric and his hand plunged into Dele’s hair.

“Fuck Del, that feels so good,’” he moaned as Dele licked the underside of his dick before taking him all the way back in. Eric couldn’t believe how right it felt, how easy Dele had him in the palm of his hand. In between the shots of white hot pleasure burning in his veins and the coiling sensation in his stomach all he could think about was how he never wanted to let this feeling go. The feeling that they’d jumped off the edge into an unknown abyss, that they were in free fall and the only thing that could save them was each other.

Dele quickened his rhythm, introducing a hand to help apply more pressure. Eric let out a strangled moan as he also reached down to cup his balls and he dug his fingers into Dele’s shoulder, not caring about the fact he would leave puncture marks. He lifted his hips and began to thrust, aiding Dele in finding the speed he needed.

“Fuck Del. Shit. I’m so close.”

Dele hummed around his dick and Eric’s eyes rolled backwards. He felt a finger graze against the stretch of skin just behind his balls and he squeezed Dele again, letting him know it felt good. Dele added another finger and he started to rub in tandem with his mouth and Eric thought he might possibly never feel this good ever again. He thrust hard, feeling his dick push deeper to the back of Dele’s throat and that was his undoing. He swore as he came and his heart thundered in his chest as he felt his cock pulsing in Dele’s mouth.

After he was done he collapsed back on the bed and flinched at the butterfly kisses Dele placed over his hips. He reached down and grabbed his shoulders, pulling him up towards him. Dele smiled and rubbed the back of his hand over his mouth.

“Not a bad way to celebrate a Champion’s League win. Not sure I can use that as a caption though,” he said and they both laughed as Dele leaned in and planted a kiss on the side of Eric’s mouth. Eric propped himself up on his elbow and ran a hand over the towel that was still wrapped around Dele’s waist.

“No going back now Del,” he whispered, everything that had just happened catching up to him. Dele shook his head and leaned in, rubbing his nose against Eric’s. He placed their foreheads together and looked into Eric’s eyes. 

“Nope. No going back. In fact you owe me one going forward Diet.”

Eric barked out a laugh and felt the knot of unease that had started to form in his chest disappear. He leaned forwards, whispering the promise of repaying the favour into Dele’s ear and the younger man pulled him into a kiss that had him falling apart all over again.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *drops the smut chapter and runs away*


	6. Admissions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What would you have said to him if he’d listened back then?”

It was a cool, cloudless night and Eric could feel the cold starting to bite at his hands. He cupped them together, leaning further forward on the glass railing. North London was lit up before him and he scanned the sky line, Dele’s words ringing in his ears. He absently rubbed the knuckles on his right hand, fingers pressing where the tender sign of bruises were starting to blossom. He remembered the coil of anger in his chest, the need to release it resulting in a punch to the wall. He wasn’t normally a violent person but everything that had happened in that room had set him on edge. The song. The altercation with Dele. The blunt, cold way in which he had he’d spat his words at Eric. So he’d punched the wall, his hand banging against the solid wood and he’d walked away. Walked away even though his heart was roaring at him to storm back into the room and set the record straight.

The soft whooshing noise of the sliding doors behind him opening made him tense his shoulders and he readied himself. The hard pat of a reassuring hand on his shoulder drained the tension out of him and he dipped his head, a lump forming in his throat. He glanced to the side as Danny stood by his side, leaning forward on the railing looking straight ahead. Jan appeared on his other side, replicating the posture. He retrained his eyes back on the view. Neither of them spoke, they just stood there a solid silent presence on the balcony with him. Eric swallowed, his brain was a muddle of thoughts and half formed sentences laced the tip of his tongue.

“It’s not what it sounds like.” The words didn’t feel enough, the conviction he’d wanted to bleed into them wasn’t there. Instead his voice had cracked and it had come out in a half whisper. Danny shifted beside him, turning around and leaning back against the balcony. Eric glanced at him and their eyes met. 

“Dele’s drunk mate, he doesn’t know what he’s saying,” he said waving his hand in the direction of the door. Eric shook his head. He all of all people knew that drunk Dele could sometimes be the most truthful Dele and the thought pierced him in the chest. He’d been on the end of Dele’s slurred words before. But whereas in the past the words had been smooth and warm, tonight they had been bitter and they had burned. 

“I didn’t want to leave.” Those weren’t the words he had planned to say. He’d planned to say that he’d never meant to hurt Dele, that he hadn’t meant for it to happen the way it did. He’d never said those words out loud before, never given air to the truth around his decision to leave Spurs. Neither Jan nor Danny spoke, allowing the statement to expand between them. 

“That season was such a fucking weird one for me. My appendix, my hip, illness after illness. I didn’t play well when I did get on the pitch. I knew what was coming. I knew there was going to be a decision to make.” 

He sucked in a breath and fiddled with his cufflinks. He remembered the moment like it was yesterday. He’d been called into Poch’s office and he’d known before he’d sat down that his time at Spurs was over. Poch hadn’t wanted him to leave but hearing that he couldn’t be guaranteed game time, that they were looking at signings for his position, had made him feel as though his heart was being pulled out of his chest. The offer to play him in the centre back position was put on the table but Eric had rejected it. He was twenty five, he should have been coming into the prime of his career but instead he was being told he had to change how he identified as a footballer in order to stay. 

“It hurt. It almost fucking killed me. I sobbed for hours after I left Poch’s office. I sat in my car and thought about everything I was giving up. The premier league, possibly England, the team and -“

He trailed off, not able to finish the sentence. 

“And Dele,” Jan said softly and Eric’s eyes burned. 

“Dele.”

He’d uttered that name more times in the past few hours than he had in almost two years. It felt slightly foreign, the syllables bouncing around his mouth. Once it had come so easy to him, rolling off his tongue as though it was the only language he knew how to speak. He had shouted it on the training pitch, screamed it in matches and had it coaxed from his mouth in a moan. Now it burned the back of his throat, symbolising everything he had given up and walked away from.  

“Listen, man you don’t have to tell us anything. You don’t owe anyone an explanation.” Danny’s tone was warm, his northern accent softening the vowels. Eric knew that he meant it, knew that neither he or Jan expected anything from him. But he couldn’t ignore the suffocating sensation that was growing in his chest. He couldn’t shake the feeling needling away at his stomach. Coming back here, walking the hallways of this stadium again and being surrounded by the people who had all unwittingly been the backdrop to his relationship with Dele was making it hard to breath. 

“It happened in Madrid. Well things had been happening for a while but Madrid, that was where it all got real,” his voice was small. The words felt like treacle, thick and stuck in his teeth. His heart was racing and despite the nights chill he started to sweat. H was the only one who knew everything and he only knew because he’d walked into Eric’s house one night to be greeted by the sight of a naked Dele attempting to run back upstairs unnoticed. The other two remained silent, allowing Eric time to decide if he wanted to carry on. 

“It all happened so quickly. One minute we were just friends who messed about. You know, passed it all off as something that didn’t count because we were just being stupid. And then we won the Champions League and everything was chaos. He was there and I had never felt so happy and I didn’t know how much of it was the trophy or how much of it was because of him.” 

The words were coming thick and fast now, his heart rate matching the speed of his speech. It felt like he had hit a switch and he couldn’t stop himself from letting the emotions wash over him. 

“He kissed me at the World Cup, after the penalty shootout win and I knew then. I was in love with him. It became everything. He became everything. Football was so wrapped up in how he made me feel that it felt like the most natural thing in the world. I didn’t even doubt it, didn’t think that I shouldn’t be feeling that way I did. Even when all the illnesses and injuries started he kept me sane, kept me above water. He was my anchor. But I didn’t tell him because I didn’t think he felt the same. But then he kissed me again a year later and I realised how stupid I’d been. We never said it you know, those words.”

His throat closed up as he realised that he’d been talking for a good minute without stopping. He looked up and glanced between Jan and Danny, not knowing what sort of reaction to expect. Jan stepped forward and placed an arm around his shoulder and Danny nodded his head, telling him that he understood. Eric’s knees went weak beneath him and he leaned into Jan, taking in a jagged breath. 

“I mean if we are being honest here Eric mate. We all sort of just assumed that something was going on,” Danny said shrugging his shoulders. Eric’s eyes widened and he looked at Jan. The Belgian had a warm smile on his face and he nodded in agreement. He felt his heart expand in his chest and he wondered why they had felt the need to hide from their team mates all those years ago. 

“And then it all went to shit.” 

“But didn’t you see each other at the Euros and the World Cup?”

The question stung. Not because Jan had asked it. But because it bought back memories. Memories of having to pretend every thing was fine and nothing had changed when he was dying inside. He had to train with Dele, work with him every day. And then he would lie in his bed at night, the ghost of Dele’s touch teasing him from his sleep. He would imagine what Dele would do if he turned up at his hotel door and begged to be let in. He would imagine how it would feel to draw his face towards his and kiss him. And he would lie there and wish that he could explain how he had handed his heart over to Dele in Russia and that he still had it, still owned every inch of him. 

“Yes, we saw each other but it was too late at that point. I’d done the damage when I left. I spent both of those tournaments fighting with myself. Telling myself that if I just got him to talk to me, got him to listen, then I could fix things. We had a moment at the Euros but only a brief one. But by the World Cup he didn’t want anything to do with me outside of training. He kept up appearances, made it seem like everything was OK but it wasn’t and it killed me.” 

“What would you have said to him if he’d listened back then?” 

Eric looked at Danny and he felt the familiar burn of tears. He shook his head, pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes. He walked over to the other side of the balcony and leaned against the railings. He looked out over North London, thinking about the five years he had spent calling it his home. He thought about the stadium he was stood in, the players he had spent the evening with. And he thought about Dele. He thought about the boy he had been back then and how he didn’t really know the man he had become. His heart contracted as he thought of everything he had missed, all the words he had never got to say. Eric blew out a breath and steadied himself against the cool glass. He didn’t look at Danny or at Jan when he spoke. Instead he pictured the boy he had left behind all those years ago.

“I’d tell him that he was everything to me. That when I left this place there were days where I didn’t know how I was going to get through it without him there. That to this day, five years on my heart still skips a beat when I see him doing an interview or when I see a picture of him. That I am sorry for hurting him.” 

He took another deep breath and stood up tall.

“I’d tell him the one thing that I never got to say back then. The one thing that haunts me, that chases me from my dreams. The one thing that might have changed everything had I just been man enough to tell him.” 

He ran a hand over his head and tried to steady his breathing. It was the one thing that he regretted more than anything. The one thing that, if he could turn back time, he would go back and set right. He moved slowly, turning his back on the skyline. He squeeze his nails into his palms, preparing himself to say the words he hadn’t been able to give life to five years ago. And just as he was thinking that he wished it wasn’t Danny and Jan who were going to hear them his gaze fell on a pair of deep hazel eyes and his stomach lurched. And he didn’t break his stare as the image of the boy he’d known in another lifetime mixed with the man stood in front of him now as he said the words he’d been holding onto for so long. 

“I’d tell him that I was in love with him. That I’m still in love with him. And I’d beg him to forgive me and ask for a second chance.” 

 


	7. Chances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All Eric wanted to do was turn the lights off, get back into bed and wallow in this god awful hangover. Wallow in the hangover and play the moment Dele had walked away after he’d told him he was in love with him over and over.

The high, shrill sound of something ringing pierced his sleep and Eric groaned as he lifted his head up off the pillow.A shaft of sunlight shone through a gap in the curtains and he squinted as it burned his eyes. He glanced around, trying to find the source of the godforsaken sound. His head was pounding and his throat was bone dry and he really just wanted the noise to stop. He pushed up on to his elbows and winced, the room spinning around him. Whiskey was never a good idea. He clocked the hotel phone and threw his head back with a groan as it rang again, three short blasts. Whoever had designed that ring tone needed to be shot and whoever had handed him his last drink last night also needed to suffer the same punishment.

 Last night. The image of Dele stood in front of him, half cast in shadow, the moonlight shining on him crowded into his mind. He couldn’t think about that now. He couldn’t think about Dele’s eyes, misty with alcohol and the hint of tears. His lips, parted just slightly, Eric’s entire being urging him to utter just one word. And he definitely couldn’t think about how, once again, Dele had turned around and walked away. Leaving him standing there with a weight in his chest that he could barely hold up. Eric shook his head, ridding the image from his mind and pulled himself off the bed. He stood still for a fews seconds, the pounding in his temple growing in intensity. The phone was still ringing and he sighed as he walked over to the desk and picked it up.

 “Hello.”

“Good morning Mr Dier, just ringing with the eight thirty wake up call you requested.”

 He gritted his teeth, cursing his past self for being a fucking moron, the woman’s chirpy tone grating against his headache.

 “Thank you.”

“Oh and Mr Dier, there is someone waiting for you in the lobby. Shall I send him up to you?”

His stomach dropped and he leaned back against the desk. His mind raced through all of the possibilities and he tried to ignore the one that made him feel as though he couldn’t breath.

“Erm, yeah. Did they say who it was?”

“Oh yes, sorry how silly of me. It’s Harry Kane.”

His heart sank, the little bubble of hope that had started to swell in his chest bursting. Of course it was Harry. He vaguely remembered half of a conversation they’d had as H had helped in get in a taxi. He winced as he recalled the three drinks he’d downed in quick succession after Dele had left. The sight of his ex team mates looking at him with worry in their eyes as he sat there and repeated how he’d fucked it yet again. And Harry promising to call by and check on him in the morning and that it wouldn’t seem that bad once he’d had some sleep.

A knock on his hotel room door made him jump and his stomach rolled at the movement. He was going to be paying for those last three drinks for the rest of the day. He grabbed his grey joggers from his bag and pulled them on, walking towards the door. He pulled it open and Harry let out a small laugh. Did he really look that bad?

“Alright big man, how’s your head?” Harry asked, patting him on the shoulder. Eric shrugged, steadying himself against the doorframe. Harry looked fresh, his eyes bright and Eric wondered how he could be looking so damn awake at this time in the morning when he’d been the one putting him in a taxi only five hours ago.

“Who’s idea was it to break out the whiskey? I’d like a word with them,’ he answered, standing to one side and letting Harry into he room.

“You might want to look in the mirror with that one mate, you practically raided the minibar trying to find it.”

Eric scrunched his face up and pressed his fingers to the side of his head. He just wanted to lie back down and go to sleep. Close his eyes and shut everything out, forget the pounding in his head, the sick feeling in his stomach and the fucking stupid ache in his heart.

“Oh and is your phone dead? I tried to ring you but it went straight answer phone.”

Eric looked around the room, moving slowly as he pulled aside the bed sheets. He leaned forward and grabbed his phone, freeing it from where it had was wedged between the bed and the headboard. He lifted it up, shaking it a few times. The screen stayed black and he shoved it in his pocket.

“Yeah it’s dead, charger should be in my bag.”

“Ok, well you can charge it in the car.”

“In the car?”

“Yes mate, you’re coming to mine for breakfast. Kate’s orders.”

Eric gave Harry a tight smile. He knew what he was doing, he knew that Harry was trying to act as a distraction. Because all Eric wanted to do was turn the lights off, get back into bed and wallow in this god awful hangover. Wallow in the hangover and play the moment Dele had walked away after he’d told him he was in love with him over and over.

“Come on, get dressed. Kate’s doing pancakes because the girls asked for them. They’re excited to see you too.”

Eric raised his eyebrows.

“Really? How do they even remember who I am?”

Harry laughed again but didn’t answer just plucked a t-shirt and jumper from Eric’s bag, throwing them at him.

“Just get dressed, freshen up and meet me downstairs in ten.”

Eric nodded and smiled as Harry closed the door behind him. He sat down on the bed, fingering at the edges of the clothes in his hands. He thought about Harry, the warm kindness in his eyes as he’d told him to get ready. He’d been the one constant from his life back here over the past five years. Of course there had been times where they hadn’t spoken for a while but then there would be a message after a win, a happy birthday or just a simple message asking how he was.

And Harry knew about Dele. He knew everything and whilst at first Eric had been wary of sharing the most secret part of himself, it had soon become a blessing that he had someone within football that he could turn too. He’d been there after the Champions League final when he’d made a comment about them finally getting their acts together. He’d been there when Eric had left, attempting to help him pick up the pieces. He’d been there at the Euros when Dele had let him back in for one night and then shattered it all the next morning. And he was here now, checking up on him and making sure he didn’t collapse in on himself.

He dropped the jumper on the bed next to him and pulled on his t-shirt. God this hangover had him in such a melancholy mood, maybe going to Harry and Kates was a good idea because he needed to get out of his own head.

***

The sound of giggling and feet clattering down the hallway made Eric smile and he laughed as Ivy and Vivienne came running into the kitchen. They were both clutching several pieces of paper in their hands and when they spotted him sat at the breakfast bar they ran over to him, waving them around.

“Uncle Eric, we drew some pictures for you!” Ivy shouted and he laughed as they both clambered over one another to try and get him to see theirs first. His chest warmed at being called Uncle even though he knew it was because kid found calling people by just their first names weird. He held out his hands and caught the papers before they fell to the floor.

“Ok, let’s have a look at them shall we,” he said, pulling out the two bar stools next to him so they could climb up and sit next to him. He spread the drawings out so that he could see them. There were six in total. Three each. Most of them were quite similar, stick people playing with a football. Vivienne had drawn him scoring a goal and he ruffled her hair, whispering that that one might be his favourite. Ivy puffed her chest out and pulled one of her drawings on top of it.

“This one is my favourite,” she sang, tapping Eric on the arm to make him look at it. He smiled at her and picked it up. It was another drawing of two stick people with a football at their feet. Ivy had drawn boxy t-shirts over them and coloured in their shirt numbers. His heart jumped as he read saw 20 and 15 and glanced at Ivy, who was waiting expectantly for praise. He swallowed around the lump that had formed in his throat and smiled.

“Ok so I can have two favourites, one from each of you,” he told her and she leaned in against his arm.

“Look Uncle Eric, it’s you and Uncle Dele,” Ivy said, squeezing his arm. Eric mustered a smile back but his head was spinning. Ivy had been two when he left for Porto, there was no way she could remember anything from back then. He looked back down at the drawing, her words ringing in his ears. Hearing their names in the same sentence, hearing her call them both her Uncles made his chest hurt.

In another life, where he hadn’t made the decision that had changed everything, maybe Dele would be here with him. Maybe they would have bought Ivy and Viv presents and Eric would have felt himself go soft at how good Dele could be with them. Maybe they’d babysit for Harry and Kate sometimes and Dele would fall about laughing because Eric would play dress up with them. Maybe they’d sit down after a day spent with them and Eric would make a comment about how he wanted what they had and Dele would whisper back that he wanted it too.

“Daddy!” the girls shouting in unison breaking him out of his daydream and Eric released his grip on the drawing, trying to focus his attention back in the room.

“We are showing Uncle Eric our drawings, he likes mine the best!”

“Oh really. I’m sure he likes your sisters as well.”

“Yeah Ivy, he said mine was his favourite first!”

“But look he’s still looking at the one I did of him and Uncle Dele!”

Harry’s eyes snapped to fix him in a stare and Eric lifted his shoulder slightly in an attempt to appear unbothered. Harry lifted Vivienne down from her stool and gathered both girls in his arms, picking them up. They both squealed in delight as he span them round and then put them down again. Kate appeared in the doorway and she shepherded the girls out with promises of a Disney film of their choice.

“You OK?” Harry asked him as he approached the kitchen counter, grabbing the kettle on the way. Eric nodded, not entirely sure he could muster a sentence without his voice breaking and watched Harry set about making them a cup of tea.“When she found out you were coming over she insisted I show her pictures and videos of you. She does it all the time with the others. I showed her some old photos and then set her off with some videos. She must have watched a few with you and Del,” he said, an apologetic edge to his voice.

“Yeah well there are plenty of those still around,” he commented as he took a mug from Harry’s outstretched hand. Harry’s lips quirked in a sympathetic smile and they both took a sip from their drinks, letting the silence settle between them. He looked back down at the drawing and then pushed it away. He was about to say something to Harry, to change the subject and ask about preseason when Kate reentered the room.

“Well Eric, you are now a firm favourite. They love you and want Uncle Eric to come round for breakfast every week,’ she said as she wrapped her arms around Harry’s waist. Harry kissed the top of her head and Eric focused on his tea, trying to ignore the burn in his chest. “Oh and,” Kate began and placed her hand in the pocket of her jacket. Eric looked up as she held her arm out, his phone held loosely in her hand.

“It’s been pinging like mad for the last five minutes, all your messages coming through I guess,” she said and Eric grabbed the phone from her. He flipped it so it was the right way up and lifted it up to his face. The screen unlocked and he glanced at the little red notification signs decorating a number of different apps. His furrowed his brow as he looked at WhatsApp and saw the number of messages he had waiting for him.

“Is that you from this morning trying to wake me from the dead?” he laughed, angling his phone screen at Harry. Harry shook his head, holding his hands up. “Nah mate I only messaged you once and tried calling you a few times. Someone was keen to talk to you though,” he answered and Kate let out a low whistle. Eric gave her a sardonic look but didn’t bother responding. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had anyone message him late at night for any reason, let alone for that reason.

He pressed his thumb to the little green symbol and his stomach plummeted. At the top of his chat list and with ’12 unread messages’ at the side of it was Dele’s name. Delboy, a name that had sat towards the bottom of his screen every time he’d opened the app for the last two years. The name he’d tapped on more times than he could count, typing and deleting message after message. He took a deep, jagged breath and pressed a shaking thumb on Dele’s name.

The screen filled with text and Eric’s eyes burned, he scrolled up wanting to read the messages in order and stopped when he came to the last message he’d sent. His heart thumped against his ribcage as he began to read.

May 28th 02:15am

_Delboy: It doesn’t mean nothing._

_Delboy: That song._

_Delboy: Fuck._

May 28th 03:10am

_Delboy: I think about you all the time._

_Delboy: Why did you come tonight?_

_Delboy: Eric_

_Delboy: You there?_

 

His pulse roared in his ears as he pictured Dele, drunk and waiting for him to respond. His phone must have been dead by that point and Eric wanted to scream.

 

May 28th 03:45am

_Delboy: Fuck Eric, I can’t stop thinking about you_

_Delboy: You are either ignoring me or your phone is dead_

_Delboy: I fucking hate what you do to me. I hate it Eric. I hate that it’s been five years and the moment I see you its like all of it has disappeared. You turn up and I see you and its like I’m back there all over again._

_Delboy: Shit I should not be telling you this._

_Delboy: You had no right to tell me you are in love with me. No fucking right. And now I’m here sending these fucking messages and I don’t even know where you are and I shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t care but I do._

 

Eric swore under his breath as he read the last message. Nothing followed Dele saying he cared and he felt his breath shorten as he thought of him, alone and drunk. He looked up at Harry who’s eyes were filled with worry and he slid his phone across the marble to him. Harry picked it up and Eric chewed on his lip whilst he read the messages. Kate finished reading them first and walked around the breakfast bar, coming to wrap her arms around Eric’s shoulders. Harry placed the phone back down and leaned against the counter top.

“He’s fine, as a first thing. He messaged me this morning.”

Eric let out a long breath and wiped a hand over his face. He’d known Dele long enough to remember some of the stupid antics he got up to when he was drunk, notably being the type of person who goes missing from the group. He stared at his phone and his mind raced as he thought about what he was supposed to do now.

“Are you going to message back?” Kate asked, squeezing his shoulders. He glanced at her and shrugged.

“What do I say? Sorry my phone died? I’m sorry I ruined your night?” his voice was small and he marvelled at how young he felt. He was thirty, a grown man and here he was trying to figure out how to message back the boy he liked.

Except it wasn’t just the boy he liked. It was the boy he loved and the man he’d become in the five years that had passed since he’d left him. It was Dele saying he had no fucking right and also telling him he couldn’t stop thinking about him. There were five years wrapped up in those twelve messages and Eric didn’t know where to begin to try and decipher what they meant.

“You need to speak to him,” Harry said and Eric nodded without meeting his eye. “You aren’t going back for a few more days right?” he asked and Eric nodded again. Harry picked up the phone and held it out to him, waving it around until Eric took it.

“Just message him and ask if he wants to talk things through, see what happens.”

Eric swallowed and opened up the chat again. He began to type and his hands shook as he tried to word the message right. For a few moments he started typing and then deleted it all again, repeating the process until he started to get frustrated with himself. He took a deep breath and told himself that he’d just send whatever he typed next.

_You: I’m in London for a few more days. Do you want to meet up?_

He stared as the message changed from having one grey tick to two beside it and he thought he might pass out from the need to see them turn blue. His words didn’t feel enough, they were too casual, too brief. Sweat slicked his palms and he cradled the phone as if it were a ticking bomb.

_Dele is typing. . ._

His heart jumped as the phrase changed under his name. It stayed the same for a minute or so and Eric knew he was doing the same as he had done, typing, deleting and retyping again. The anticipation was almost too much and Eric lifted himself from the stool. Dele was probably just thinking of a way to let him down, trying to find the words to let him know that those messages from last night were a mistake. Eric didn’t know if he could handle that, he didn’t know if he could face knowing he missed his chance to talk things through by not being able to respond to those messages.

The phone pinged and his legs felt like jelly. He glanced from Harry to Kate and then looked down at his phone.

_Delboy: I’m free tomorrow. I’ll message you where to meet me in the morning, that OK?_

Fifteen words. Fifteen words that made his heart swell in his chest. He didn’t know exactly what they meant and the thought flashed across his mind that Dele might not actually message him.

 _You: OK, that’s good with me._

But it represented a chance. A chance to talk to Dele, to finally be able to explain. It was a chance. And that was all he’d ever wanted.

 

 


	8. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because it wasn’t just a table that sat between them. It was five years. Five years of unsent messages and rewatched videos. Five years of waking up in the middle of the night, aching from the ghost of the touch that haunted his dreams. Five years of trying to plug the gaping hole in his chest with football, with girls, with anything that would numb the pain. Five years laid out over forty inches of scratched wood and Eric couldn’t figure out how to bridge the gap. He didn’t know how to reach across the chasm between them and being Dele back to him.

Eric hadn’t slept. He’d tried but every time he’d closed his eyes all he could picture was Dele. Dele standing in front of him, his eyes full of anguish as he shook his head, telling Eric that it didn’t matter what he said, it wasn’t going to change how he felt. Because that’s all he could think about. No matter how much he tried to remind himself that Dele had agreed to meet up, he couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that all of it could be for nothing. He could just be walking into another scenario that would leave him feeling cold and empty and alone.He rubbed his hand over his face and leaned over to the bedside table, picking up his phone. The clock told him it was 08:15 and he groaned. He’d probably had six hours sleep in the last forty eight hours. Coming back to London was supposed to have been a nice visit, a chance to celebrate with his ex-team mates and look back on his past with Spurs fondly. A short, sharp laugh exploded from his throat and he shook his head. How he’d ever convinced himself it was a good idea he’d never know. 

He shifted onto his side and unlocked his phone, opening up WhatsApp. He stared at Dele’s name and the dead weight in his stomach that he’d been trying to ignore swelled. He’d left Harry and Kates with them both reassuring him that Dele would definitely message him and to let them know how it went. Eric had been full of reasons why he thought Dele wouldn’t, in fact, message him and all of them came rushing back as he stared at his phone screen. It was still early, he told himself. Dele was probably still in bed, he had never been morning person. He pushed away the notion that, actually, he didn’t know whether that was still the case and threw the covers off him. He looked at his phone once more before throwing it away from him and concluded that a shower would be a good distraction. 

The steam surrounded him and he twisted the shower head so it was on the most powerful setting. He angled his back and sighed as the water blasted against his shoulders. The suds from his shower gel swirled around his feet and he moved his foot from side to side, making the bubbles disappear. He wasn’t normally one for a long shower but going through the motions of washing himself had allowed him to concentrate on something else for a while and he could feel the knot in his stomach loosen slightly. Then his he heard his phone ping from the other room and his legs almost collapsed underneath him. He scrambled around, throwing back the shower curtain and grabbed the first towel he could find.  It barely covered his hips and he swore before throwing it away, feeling the water run down his legs as he walked. His knees hit the bed and he pressed his hand into the mattress as he leaned over to get his phone. Water dripped from his body and pooled on to the bedsheets and he stood back up, both hands clutching his phone. He lifted it to his face and the screen unlocked. The little red notification sign above the WhatsApp symbol made his stomach clench and he pressed a shaking thumb to it. 

_Delboy: Can you remember that cafe, Vida? The one near the stadium?_

Eric felt dizzy with the familiarity in Dele’s words, the years collapsing in on themselves. There was no good morning or hello. It was as if they were just picking up at the end of a conversation, as if no time had past at all and they were just arranging to meet up after not seeing each other for a few days. He stood for a few seconds, locating the cafe in his memory. 

_You: Yeah I remember it._

_Delboy: Owners are cool and used to us lot so there shouldn’t be any issues. Half an hour?_

_You: Yeah half an hours good._

_Delboy: Ok. See you soon._

Eric’s pulse raced as he reread the messages. It was the longest conversation they’d had in two years and he could feel his heart hammering against his ribcage. He took a deep breath and looked at the messages one more time before locking his phone, the chill of the air con reminded him that he was still naked and wet from his shower. He turned around and walked back into the bathroom, grabbing a bigger towel from the railing. He faced the mirror and started rubbing himself dry, meeting his own stare in the reflection.  This was it, everything he had wanted for so long and nerves fluttered in his chest as he told himself he better not fuck it up. 

 

***

 

Half an hour later he found himself sat in the cafe at a small wooden table, surrounded by people going about their daily lives. Dele was sat across from him and they both cradled half drank cups of coffee as he stared down at the expanse of wood that separated them. Aside from saying hello to each other and ordering their drinks they had sat in relative silence. Eric had thought of so much he’d wanted to say on the car ride over but now he was here, with Dele sat in front of him, words failed him. Because it wasn’t just a table that sat between them. It was five years. Five years of unsent messages and rewatched videos. Five years of waking up in the middle of the night, aching from the ghost of the touch that haunted his dreams. Five years of trying to plug the gaping hole in his chest with football, with girls, with anything that would numb the pain. Five years laid out over forty inches of scratched wood and Eric couldn’t figure out how to bridge the gap. He didn’t know how to reach across the chasm between them and being Dele back to him. 

 “Is that how you really feel?”

The words came out fast and garbled and he felt Dele’s eyes snap up from the table as he said them. He hadn’t meant to speak, he’d meant to wait for Dele to break the silence first. But the words had been pushing, clambering to fall out of his mouth and he hadn’t been able to stop himself. Dele blinked slowly as his eyes searched Eric’s face. 

“What?”

The question had come without context and Eric fidgeted in his seat as he wrung his hands together, trying to find the right way to frame it. 

“The other night,” he began, swallowing around the lump that had formed in his throat. He needed to ask him. Needed to know if what he’d said after Winksy had played that fucking song was the truth. He splayed his palms out on the table and took a deep breath. He needed to know, in spite of whether he was going to like the answer or not. 

“The other night, at the hotel. After the whole song thing. You said. When you said that I shagged you and then pissed off to Portugal.” 

Dele winced at his words and Eric wanted to reach out and grab his hand. But he didn’t, he focused on his fingers spread out on the dark wood and forced himself to ask Dele the question again. 

“Is that what you think it was? Between us, just a couple of shags?” 

He curled his hands in to fists, the rough feel of the wood on his skin giving him something to focus on as he let the question settle between them again. He glanced at Dele who had drawn his hands together in front of his face, his fingertips bouncing against his lips. Eric squeezed his hands tight, directing the nervous energy coursing though him into the pinch of his nails on the skin of his palms. His heart was hanging on the silence that stretched between them. It was teetering on a tightrope and it was down to how Dele answered him whether or not it fell and shattered or it stayed, clinging on with hope. Dele blew out a long breath and lowered his hands. Eric watched as his lips parted and then closed again. His insides screamed, urging Dele to let the words fall from his mouth, to let whatever it was he needed to say lie between them.

“Can you remember what you said to me, that morning in Portugal? The day after the Nations League had finished?”

Dele’s voice was small and Eric’s stomach dropped. Whatever he’d been expecting Dele to say it hadn’t been that. His mind raced as he scanned through his memories, trying to locate the moment Dele was talking about. Dele stared at him, with those hazel eyes that always made him feel as though he were being exposed. Eric leaned forward, lips poised to ask what Dele was referring too but then Dele bit his lip and rubbed the back of his neck and he felt as though someone had shoved a hot poker through is chest. It was an unconscious movement on Dele’s part, something that Eric remembered him doing all the time but it jolted his memory and he nodded slowly. Dele began to speak and the bottom of Eric’s world fell through. 

“You told me that you had everything you ever wanted. You were playing for England, playing in the Premier League and you were doing it all with me by your side. And I was so happy. So fucking happy that finally we’d stopped messing around and just done it. It was all I could think about after the Champions League final but I let you be the one to make a move because I didn’t know if you felt the same way. But then to fucking finally have you inside me and then hear you say those words, it was everything.”

“Del,” Eric began but Dele held his hand up and he sat back in his chair. 

“Then you left. And I know we talked about it and you asked me if I was OK. Maybe I should have said no, no I wasn’t OK. That I was fucking dying inside knowing that we had only just fucking broke through all the bullshit and admitted what we were to each other. But instead I stayed quiet and all of those feelings I had just festered. Then every time I saw your name or heard your voice in an interview I just felt this rage. Rage at what had been snatched away from me. And the easiest thing to do was just blame it all on you. So that’s what I did and I convinced myself that it was all your fault and that I hated you.”

Dele’s eyes were glistening and his hands were balled into fists and Eric’s heart ached as he swallowed each word that was thrown at him. His own eyes were stinging and his chest felt tight. The words hurt, he’d known they were coming but they hurt all the same. He thought back to the day the contract at Porto had been suggested to him and remembered the pit in his stomach that had opened up when he’d been told if he stayed at Spurs then he wasn’t guaranteed minutes. He thought back to how he’d kept the papers in his drawer for two weeks, the knowledge burning in his mouth every time he was with Dele. He recalled the day he’d finally told him and the small ‘oh’ that had threatened to rip him in two. 

“If I’d have stayed we would have ended up hating each other anyway,” he said, quietly and tentatively. Dele didn’t respond and he took a deep breath, opening his hands out before him. 

“I could have stayed. I could have been a bit part player, sitting on the bench. I could have Del, if it meant staying with you. But after a while the jealousy would have seeped in. I would have resented you for it and I couldn’t live with myself if that had happened. So I left and it’s the best and worst decision I’ve ever made.”

Eric stared at Dele, searching his face for any indication that he believed what he was saying. There was a pause and the hustle and bustle of the cafe crowded in on them. The music that had been playing softly in the background now seemed too loud. Eric knew he could carry on talking, fill the void with words that wouldn’t do justice to just how much he needed Dele to understand. Instead he waited and heat bloomed in his chest as he caught snatches of the song that was playing. 

_‘And a part of me keeps holding on, just in case it hasn’t gone. I guess I still care, do you still care?’_

He glanced up at the speaker in the corner and then back at Dele. Eric didn’t normally believe in fate or in coincidences but he wondered whether Dele had heard those lyrics too. Wondered whether Dele knew that his whole body was burning. Burning with the need for Dele to say something, anything that would stop the ache in chest. 

“I would have done the same thing.” 

The words cut across his thoughts and he snapped his eyes to Dele, not quite believing what he’d just heard. Dele was looking at the table, worrying at a loose bit of wood on the corner. Eric leaned back in his seat, placing his hands in his lap. He didn’t know how to react, how to respond to that. He’d been living with this festering guilt for five years. A festering guilt that based itself on the fact he’d always believed that he’d betrayed Dele, that Dele would never have walked out on him like he had done. 

“You would have done the same thing?” he repeated back, a roar rising in his ears. He couldn’t trust himself to say anything else, couldn’t allow himself to give air to the confusion that was currently coursing through his bloodstream. Dele nodded and looked at him, those damn hazel eyes full of so much emotion and Eric faltered. He felt the anger that had started to curdle in his stomach evaporate and he fought the urge to lean across the table and take Dele’s hand in his. 

It was a mess. All of this was such a mess. There was so much history sat between them. Eric could feel the weight of it all, every single unsaid word, every single imagined touch, every single minute that they’d missed threatening to crush them. 

“It was easier, to pretend like I wouldn’t have. To pretend like you were the one who didn’t care. I’ve never felt so lost like I did when you left. Fuck, I was a wreck. But I knew why you’d done it. Football, it’s our lives and the thought of having that taken away. I understood. But at the same I was so angry that you had to go. I wanted to be selfish, I wanted to beg you to stay. You have to understand, it was easier for me to push you out.” 

Eric breathed in. A short, sharp jagged breath that made him feel as though his lungs were on fire. 

“The other night, in the changing room. That kiss. And then when you said you were in love with me.” Dele’s words came out in broken stutters, as though he were trying to piece together a sentence from the fragments of what had happened. 

“I was scared. Scared because all of a sudden you were there, in front of me and you were real again. I’d turned you into this memory, even at the Euros and the World Cup. You were this moment in my life, this feeling. I’d made you into this thing that I could keep at arms length. But seeing you, feeling you, it bought it all back. It bought everything back and I just panicked. Five years is a long time but it all melted away and I didn’t know what to do.”

Eric’s chest was heavy and it hurt to breath. His mind raced as he processed what he’d just heard, as he tried to find the meaning that was buried somewhere in Dele’s rushed words. He was about to try and formulate a response when Dele suddenly scraped his chair back and stood up. Eric started to do the same but he stopped, half standing as Dele raised his hand and shook his head. 

“I can’t do this. Sorry. I can’t, I just. I need to go.”

He watched for a few seconds as Dele turned around and walked away. As once again his heart splintered into a million pieces as he watched him push through a door and disappear from view. His ears were ringing and his vision was blurred. He bit the inside of his cheek, attempting to stop the tears from falling. He couldn’t fall apart, not in the middle of a cafe. He couldn’t let the hole in chest consume him, not here. He snapped his head up, staring at the door Dele had walked out of. He couldn’t just let that be it. He refused. 

A few heads turned his way as he pushed his chair back, the legs scraping across the tiled floor. He ignored the stares as he threw a tenner down on the table and made his way across the cafe. He paused when he came to the door, palm flat against its surface. He had no idea if Dele would be behind it. He could have left and Eric’s stomach dropped as he realised he had no idea where Dele now lived. He steadied himself, flexing his fingers and pushed the door open. 

He stepped into the corridor, his eyes adjusting to the darker lighting and his heart skipped a beat as he saw Dele, his forehead pressed to the wall. All the resolve he’d felt as he’d stalked across the floor and pushed the through the door melted away and Eric’s throat closed up at how vulnerable he looked. 

“Del,” he whispered, stepping forward. Dele sighed and turned around, his head titled upwards. The corridor felt small, closed in and Eric knew a few more steps would have close the gap between them. But he stayed still, he didn’t want to scare Dele away again. 

“Ask me what I would have said.” 

Dele’s voice was barely a whisper and he angled his head towards Eric. Eric furrowed his brow, not quite understanding what Dele was asking him to do. He must have noted his confusion because he pushed himself off the wall and stood up straight. 

“The other night, Danny asked you what you would have told me if you had the chance. Ask me that question.” 

Eric swallowed and took another step forward. His heart was thudding in his chest and his palms itched with the need to reach out and touch Dele. The image of a balcony and Danny stood in front of him entered his head and he heard the words that had set all of this in motion. He cleared his throat and looked Dele straight in the eye as he spoke. 

“What would you have said to him if he’d listened back then?”

It was Dele’s turn to swallow and Eric thought he might go mad with anticipation as a few seconds passed before he answered.

“I’d tell him that I felt exactly the same. That he was everything to me. That I had imagined what it would be like to call him mine from the moment that I’d laid eyes on him. That it scared the hell out of me because I wasn’t supposed to feel that way about guys. That he changed that and it felt so natural. That when he left it felt like nothing would ever be the same again. That it broke my heart. But that I understood.” 

Eric couldn’t breath, couldn’t think about anything other than Dele as he inched further towards him with each word. His head was spinning and his mouth was dry and he thought he might pass out. He didn’t know what this meant, didn’t want to read too much into the way Dele was looking at him. 

“I’d tell him that I was in love with him too. So irrevocably in love with him. And that I think I might still feel the same way. But I’d also tell him that I’m scared. Scared of the way seeing him again makes me feel. Scared that if I act on the thoughts that are screaming at me right now that I will regret it. Scared because all I want to do is reach out and touch him and I’m afraid that if I do that then I’m never going to want to let go.”

The gap between them was mere inches and heat rushed to Eric’s cheeks as Dele’s gaze dropped to his lips. The air had stilled between them and he didn’t dare speak in case the spell broke and reality came rushing back in. Dele stood still, long eyelashes framing those beautiful eyes as they looked at him. And Eric couldn’t help himself. He moved slowly, his fingers shaking as he bought his hand up to cup Dele’s face. 

The heated moment in the changing rooms filled his mind and his breath hitched. The memory of their lips crashing together, their hands all over each other was too much and he pulled Dele towards him. This time the kiss was gentle and Eric thought he might unravel as their mouths slid together. He rubbed his thumb along Dele’s cheek and he restrained himself from deepening the kiss, trying to figure out what Dele wanted. Dele responded by lifting his hands and gripping the back of his neck, pulling him closer and nipping at his bottom lip. A moan escaped from the back of Eric’s throat and he tasted coffee as Dele licked in to his mouth. 

His heart was racing and fireworks were exploding behind his eyes as Dele’s hands grappled at his skin, his fingers brushing the sensitive spot at the bottom of his neck. It was everything he had wanted and yet he couldn’t lose himself completely. He couldn’t fully let go because there was a part of him that knew it could be over within seconds. Dele could stop, pull back and look at him like he had done a few days before. 

Dele must have sensed Eric distancing himself because he broke away, panting slightly. His eyes searched Eric’s face and he ran a thumb over his bottom lip. Eric sighed at the feeling and he leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together.  “I’m so sorry Del, ” he whispered. Dele lifted his hands to cup his face and he placed a small peck on the side of his mouth. 

“I’m sorry too,” he whispered back and Eric’s knees went weak. Their lips met again and this time Eric let himself fall. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has taken me a little bit longer to get out. It's such an important chapter and I needed get it right. Hope it was worth the wait!
> 
> *song lyrics mentioned are from When We We Young by Adele*


	9. Interlude 2.0

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was all so different from the hotel in Madrid. There they had been caught up in a moment, acting on the adrenaline that had been rushing through their veins, it had felt like a snapshot in time, a secret they had shared with those four walls. This though, this felt like they were pushing against a boundary and Eric wondered if they’d already reached the point where there was no turning back. It didn’t feel like it was just a moment anymore and Eric’s hands shook as he unclasped them, playing with the hem of Dele’s top.

As soon as Eric had stepped off the plane and the heat had rolled over him he’d felt like he was home. As the team coach had driven past craggy cliffs covered in dense green foliage, through roads lined with secluded white villas and the odd row of brightly coloured townhouses he’d leant back in his seat, smiling to himself. The Spurs lads had joined up with the rest of the squad after their Champions League win and now they were about to compete in their second competitive semi final for England in a year, he couldn’t believe how lucky he was. His thoughts had been punctuated by the sound of laughter from his team mates. He’d glanced around and laughed, watching as Danny held court over a rather serious looking game of Uno. Jesse and Marcus had been holed up at the back, headphones shared between them as they watched something on Jesse’s iPad. John and Kyle had been their usual selves, giggling their heads off as they tried to balance a pile of Haribo eggs on Raz’s head, Picks filming the whole thing on his phone. His heart had felt warm in his chest as he’d looked at them all, laughing and joking around. And then there’d been Dele. Dele, with his headphones in, his head bouncing along to whatever song he was listening to, pulling funny faces as he messed around on Snapchat. Their thighs had been pressed together since the moment they’d sat down and every so often he would lean across and place his hand on Eric’s as he showed him something on his phone. 

Eric could still feel the caress of his thumb on the back of his hand even now, fours later, as he lay back on his bed. They were in their hotel room and Dele was sprawled out, facing away from Eric, playing some sort of stupid game on his phone. Eric stared at him, his fingers absentmindedly drawing patterns on Dele’s lower leg. It had been four days since they’d last shared a hotel room and Eric hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it. They’d fallen asleep not long after Dele had told him he owed him one, nose to nose, limbs tangled together. Eric had been the last to close his eyes, watching as Dele’s face relaxed and his breathing had evened out. They’d fallen asleep in the same bed together before but it hadn’t been the same. Eric had wanted to commit the way Dele had looked to his memory. The vulnerability in his softened features making him reach up his hand and tentatively cup his face, rubbing his thumb across Dele’s cheekbone. 

He shifted his focus back onto his fingers, running them along the corded muscle on Dele’s calf. He drew the number fifteen with his index finger and followed it up with a heart. Dele flicked his leg slightly but didn’t turn round. Eric smiled and ran his fingertips up to the back off Dele’s knee. He drew a line over the crease, the soft skin pliant under his touch. He moved his hand further up and drew another heart on the smooth skin of his thigh. Dele flicked his head round, glaring at him. “What are you doing?” he asked, jiggling his leg to try and get Eric to stop.  _ Giving you my heart,  _ Eric thought as he shrugged his shoulders. Dele huffed out a breath and pushed himself up, causing Eric’s hand to fall onto the bed.

Dele jumped off the bed and bounded over to the desk, fiddling with his portable speaker. Eric watched as his thumbs worked away over his phone, no doubt flicking between the hundreds of playlists he so carefully curated. Eric rolled his eyes as Dele’s brow furrowed in concentration. It didn’t matter where they were or what they were doing, it always took him an absolute age to find a song. “What do you reckon? Throwback?” Dele asked, glancing up at Eric. Eric hummed in response and Dele rolled his eyes. He continued to stare at his screen for a few seconds before a grin spread across his face and he pressed a finger to the phone with a flourish. The opening melody of a song filled the room and Dele swayed from side to side. 

_ Baby I just don’t get it, do you enjoy being hurt? _

Eric raised his eyebrows in surprise and Dele winked at him. It wasn’t his usual style and Eric laughed as Dele started to dance around in front of the mirror, singing along. He pulled out a few Fortnite moves and Eric shook his head, telling him he was a rubbish dancer. Dele span round to face him and flipped him the finger before lifting his hand up to his mouth as if he were holding a microphone. He walked forwards, clicking along to the beat of the music. This type of performance wasn’t unusual for Dele but seeing him do a rather embarrassing imitation of an R&B star was something that Eric hadn’t experienced before. Eric laughed again as he made his way slowly to the side of the bed and his heart clenched as Dele pointed at him. 

_ If I was your man, baby you’d never worry about what I’d do, I’d be coming home, back to you every night doing you right _

Dele’s voice was out of tune and he looked like an idiot with his hand in front of his face but heat pooled in Eric’s stomach as he sang the words, holding his stare the whole time. Dele stepped forward again and his knees hit the bed. He leaned over and pulled on Eric’s arm. Eric shook his head, wagging his finger at Dele. Oh no, there was no way he was dancing. Dele stuck out his bottom lip and pulled again. This time Eric relented and he shuffled sideways, swinging his legs over so he was sat on the edge of the bed. Their knees rubbed together as Dele stood over him, hands dropping to his sides. 

_ You should let me love you, let me be the one to give you everything you want and need _

Dele had stopped singing and the lyrics filled the silence between them. 

_ I want to fuck you.  _

The thought made Eric’s chest tighten as he reached up and wrapped his fingers around Dele’s wrist. His mind was racing and his heart had started hammering against his ribcage. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t had these thoughts over the past few days, it was quite the opposite. His mind had wandered to what exactly would happen when they were alone again, another hotel room to themselves. But having Dele stood before him, looking so damn hot with those lyrics in the background, it was almost too good to be true. He didn’t want it to burst, this little bubble of apprehension that had swelled every time he’d so much as glanced at Dele over the last four days. He didn’t want to snatch what he wanted and it be too soon, too rushed. Never mind the fact that this was all so new, such uncharted territory and the thought of reaching out to claim Dele’s body made him feel a little light headed. He lifted his other hand up and pulled Dele towards him, both hands wrapped around his wrists. Dele responded and leaned down, eyes flicking between Eric’s eyes and his lips. 

“Del,” Eric whispered, breath caught in his chest. Dele hummed in response, lifting his arms up. Eric loosens his grip and Dele slid his hands down to meet his, their fingers interlacing. Eric pulled slightly and Dele shifted his legs either side of his knees and climbed up so that he was straddling him. Dele spread their arms out to the side and hooked them round his back before letting go of Eric’s hands and bringing them up to cup his face. The closeness, the sheer intimacy of it made Eric’s breath stutter. “Del,” he whispered again and Dele rubbed his thumb over his bottom lip. Eric caught it with a kiss and turned his head, pressing his lips to Dele’s palm. Music was still playing in the background and Eric smiled against Dele’s skin as the song changed, Drake’s voice filling the room. Dele shifted on his lap and the friction made him suck in his stomach. 

_I want to fuck you,_ he thought again. He looked up at Dele, whose eyebrow was raised in question. _God_ _I really want to fuck you._ This was all so different from the hotel in Madrid. There they had been caught up in a moment, acting on the adrenaline that had been rushing through their veins, it had felt like a snapshot in time, a secret they had shared with those four walls. This though, this felt like they were pushing against a boundary and Eric wondered if they’d already reached the point where there was no turning back. It didn’t feel like it was just a moment anymore and Eric’s hands shook as he unclasped them, playing with the hem of Dele’s top. 

“Eric,” Dele said quietly and he looked up. Dele bit his bottom lip, dragging it through his teeth and Eric felt his dick twitch at the sight. A part of him wanted to reach up and grab Dele’s neck, pull him down and crash their mouths together. He wanted to run his hands all over his body and cover every inch of his skin with his lips. He wanted to map out all the places that drew a moan from Dele’s mouth, create a list in his head of all the ways in which he could make him melt under his touch. He wanted to place his heart in Dele’s palm and make him promise to never let it go. 

_ I’m so scared Del. _

“Kiss me.”

_ Are you scared too?  _

Dele leaned down and placed a kiss on Eric’s forehead. He cupped Eric’s jaw and kissed his eyelids, his cheeks, his nose before finally sliding his mouth over Eric’s lips. His whole body tingled as Dele deepened the kiss, their mouths open, tongues dancing over each other. Eric tugged on Dele’s top and he broke away, lifting his arms up so it could be lifted over his head. He ran his hands over Dele’s chest, brushing lightly over his nipples, making him breathe in sharply. He ran his thumb over the tattoo on his ribs before replacing it with his lips. He nipped at the skin and then sucked over the mark his teeth had left. His mind was racing and there was a voice that wouldn’t stop telling him that this was it, they were nearing the point of no return. 

_ We were there a long time ago,  _ he thought as he lifted his head back up and captured Dele’s mouth with his. A moan escaped the back of his throat as Dele bit down on his bottom lip and he felt him tug on the front of his t-shirt. He smiled against the kiss and leaned back, lifting his hands up. He reached behind his head and pulled it off, throwing it to the side of him. Dele licked his lips and leaned forward on his lap, tracing a line of kisses on his neck. He rocked his hips as he did it and Eric felt blood his rush to his groin. He was fully hard now and he knew Dele could feel it through his shorts. He reached around and placed his hands on Dele’s lower back, pulling him down, the friction making his head spin. The feel of Dele’s tongue on the sensitive spot under his ear made him buck his hips upwards and he swore. 

“I want to fuck you Del,” he said, the words tumbling from his mouth. Dele snapped his head up and Eric wished he could pick them back up again. Those hazel eyes were searching his face and held his breath, waiting for Dele to laugh in his face and tell him this was just a joke. His pulse roared in his ears as he stared, looking for some kind of sign from Dele that he hadn’t just said something completley stupid. Instead of answering Dele dipped his head and drew Eric into a kiss. It was a slow kiss, their mouths open and Dele sucked on his tongue before he pulled back again, leaving Eric breathless. 

“You want to fuck me?” Dele asked, eyes hooded and chest swelling with each heavy breath. Eric nodded, running his fingers over the top of his shorts. “Yes, I want to fuck you,” he answered and the conviction in his voice made Dele widen his eyes. 

_ I have never been more sure of anything in my whole life _

He wanted Dele. He needed Dele. He needed to give him his body, to be as close to him as a person possibly could be. The force with which the thought hit him made Eric gasp and he reached up and pulled Dele down, falling backwards on the bed. His hands grappled at Dele’s back and he moaned as Dele started grinding on him. His whole body felt like it was on fire and he didn’t know how he was going to get through this without physically combusting. Dele moved his head and his breath caressed Eric’s ear. 

“All I’ve been thinking about since Monday was how it would feel to have you inside me.” The words made Eric’s vision blurr and he was sure he whimpered as Dele shuffled backwards down the bed, kissing a path down his chest and onto his stomach. He came to a stop when he hit the waistband of his shorts and he tugged on them. Eric lifted his hips up and sucked air through his teeth as the cool air brushed against his erection. He lifted himself up onto his elbows and stared down at Dele, the sight of him between his legs bringing back memories of his mouth, hot and wet and he felt his balls tighten. The air wooshed out of his lungs as Dele wrapped his fingers around his dick, spitting on the tip. He puckered his lips and lowered his mouth slowly onto him. Eric’s eyes rolled back at how tight his mouth felt and he curled his fingers, gripping hard at the bedsheet. 

_ Fuck.  _

Dele lowered his head, taking him all the way in and Eric thrust his hips as he felt his dick hit the back of Dele’s throat. He moaned and ran a hand through Dele’s curls, pulling them as he felt Dele run the tip of his tongue underneath the head. “Del, fuck that feels good. Stop though. Stop,” he breathed, grasping at Dele’s hand. There was a popping noise as Dele lifted himself up and they both laughed. Eric sat up and placed his hands on Dele’s shoulders. “Stand up,” he commanded and Dele scrambled backwards, getting to his feet. Eric took a few moments to steady his breathing and he looked at Dele as he played with the chain around his neck. Their gaze met and a wide grin took over Dele’s face, his eyes lighting up. 

_ I want to give you the world.  _

Four years worth of feelings seem to rise to the surface and Eric pushed himself off the bed. He closed the gap between them with two strides and he crashed his mouth on Dele’s the need to touch him becoming almost too much. Yes, he wanted to have sex with him, to learn how his body felt but it was more than that. It was every brush of the hand under a table and every lingering hug after a goal. It was every late night conversation and every hotel bed they’d shared. And it was this moment, Dele stood in front of him, cheeks flushed and mouth open slightly, erection straining against his shorts. This was the moment that changed everything, that shattered that boundary and Eric was scared as hell but he was ready. 

He leaned down and kissed Dele’s shoulder before moving his mouth across his collarbone. He came to a stop at the base of his throat and licked at the dip in his clavicle. He dropped to his knees and kissed a line down his chest, moving his head to bite at the hardened bud of each nipple. He kissed his abdomen before sucking at the thin skin on his hip bone, lifting his hands up to undo the buttons on his shorts. He heard Dele suck in a breath as he pulled down the shorts and his boxers at the same time. Dele’s dick was hard and firm and Eric bit his lip as he gathered it in his hand. Touching a dick that wasn’t his own felt weird for a second but as soon as he heard Dele moan the thought was soon replaced with the need to make him do it again. He lowered his head and sucked the tip into his mouth, precome leaking onto his tongue. He licked at the slit and then took Dele in, all the way down until he felt his gag reflex protest at how deep it actually was. Dele’s legs wobbled and Eric placed his hands on his hips to steady him. He looked up and the sight of Dele with his eyes closed, rubbing at his nipples made his own dick ache. He pumped his mouth up and down a few times until he felt Dele grabbing at the back of his head. 

“Eric, you need to fuck me. Now.” 

There was an urgency in his voice and he was panting. Eric pulled back, leaving just the tip in his mouth and he sucked before releasing it making Dele dig his fingers into the back of his neck. He stood up and came nose to nose with him. Dele’s pupils were huge and his bottom lip was swollen from where he’d been chewing at it. A thrill went through Eric as he realised that he’d done that, he’d made Dele look like that. He lifted his hand and closed his fist around Dele’s dick, stroking it slowly. Dele copied him and they leaned in towards each other, foreheads pressed together. Heat coiled in his stomach and his spine felt tight. They breathed heavily into the space between them and Eric wondered if Dele’s mind was a maelstrom of emotions like his was. 

“Are you sure?” he asked, the gravity of what they were about to do hitting him. It didn’t matter that they were both stood, fully naked, wanking each other off. That could still be passed off as something else, a moment of madness. He knew he was kidding himself but he couldn’t help it, the next step seemed far much bigger.

_ Sex. With Dele. Your best friend. _

“Yes I’m sure,” Dele answered, cutting across his thoughts. Eric kissed him, pushing his mouth against his, hoping that it communicated everything he was feeling. He glanced back at the bed and then at Dele. Dele nodded and brushed past him, dropping his knees onto the mattress. He crawled into the middle and then turned around to face Eric. “I, erm, I bought some stuff. In the inside compartment of my bag,” Dele said quietly inclining his head towards the chair on the other side of the room. Eric nodded and walked over to it. He fiddled with the zip and reached his hand in, pulling out a strip of condoms and a bottle of lube. He looked over at Dele, lying waiting on the bed and his heart clenched in his chest. He imagined Dele tucking them away in the bag, thinking about what it meant and what it acknowledged. 

“How - how do you want to - I mean?” 

“Come here.”

Eric fell onto the bed and passed the stuff to Dele. Dele placed them on the pillow next to him and lay down on his back, legs open. Eric dragged his gaze over Dele’s body and he burned at the sight of him. He looked so relaxed and yet Eric was freaking out. He wanted this so badly, had thought of nothing else for three days and now it was happening. Dele held out his arms and Eric crawled over to him, slotting himself between his legs. Their dicks brushed together and they both gasped at the contact. Dele cupped Eric’s face and pulled him down into a kiss, a soft kiss that calmed Eric’s heart rate down. 

“What if I hurt you?” he asked, propping himself up on his elbows. 

“You won’t, you can’t possibly hurt me Eric.” There was so much emotion in Dele’s voice and Eric knew those words carried more than just one meaning. He leaned over and picked up the bottle of lube, flipping open the cap. He squeezed some onto his fingers and chucked the bottle back down. Dele breathed heavily as he watched him spread it across his palm. Eric reached down between them and wrapped his hand around Dele’s dick, squeezing as he started a slow rhythm. Dele tilted his head back and moaned, pushing his hips down. His legs opened further and he thrust his hips upwards. Eric shifted back and slid his hand from Dele’s dick. He ran his finger over Dele’s asshole, pressing in slightly. Dele swore and pushed down. Eric watched his face as he slipped the tip of his index finger in and his dick twitched at how tight Dele felt. He pushed further in and Dele panted, planting his hands on the headboard behind him. 

“Eric, please just fuck me.” 

Eric lowered his head and kissed Dele’s thigh as he slipped a second finger in, pushing in further this time. Dele moaned loudly and Eric knew he’d never give up wanting to make him make that sound over and over again. He scissored his fingers a few times, hitting a spot that made Dele whimper before pulling them out. He moved back up, pinning Dele’s torso under his and he reached over to grab the condom. Dele batted his arm away and shook his head. 

“It doesn’t matter. Please Eric, I need you.”

“I don’t know how long I’ll last,” he told Dele as he almost whimpered at his own touch. He worked his hand over his dick a few times, coating it with lube and then angled it between Dele’s cheeks. He looked into Dele’s eyes and he felt Dele nudge him with his feet. He pushed his hips forward and the edges of his vision went white. He had never felt anything like it before. Dele was tight but ready for him and he stretched around Eric as he pushed in slowly. The sound of his name on Dele’s lips unleashed whatever had been holding him back and Eric began to move. He stared down at where they were joined, their skin contrasting and he felt tears prick the back of his eyes. 

_ This is everything I didn’t know I needed.  _

He ran his hand down Dele’s side, brushing his fingertips over his skin. Stars burst behind his eyes everytime he closed them and he didn’t think he’d ever be able to capture this feeling again. It was Dele. The Dele who taunted him every day in training. The Dele who thought up stupid challenges just because he wanted to beat him. The Dele who talked in his sleep. The Dele who kept his walls up and didn’t let anyone in. But he’d let him in. He’d lowered those defences and allowed Eric to see who he was underneath all the bravado. He’d shared his secrets, his fears and now he was sharing his body. Dele had given him everything, he trusted him that much. He stared into those hazel eyes and his heart swelled as he shifted his hips and drew another moan from his lips. Eric pressed his fingers into the swell of his thigh and he imagined his fingerprints leaving a mark on Dele’s skin. 

It was Dele. His Dele. 

_ Mine mine mine.  _

His pumped his hips as the word ricocheted around his mind and Dele pinned him down, his heels pressing into the back of thighs. The closeness sent an electric shock up Eric’s spine and he felt the coil of heat pull tighter low in his stomach. Dele had lowered one of his hands and had closed a fist around his dick. He was using the same rhythm as Eric an his eyes were half closed, glazed over, lost in the pleasure that was taking over his whole body. Eric leaned down and kissed him, panting into his mouth. Dele grabbed at his neck with his free hand and they stayed like that, pressed together. Eric’s thrusts became erratic, his hips stuttering as he felt himself nearing the edge. 

“Fuck Del, I’m close.”

“Me too. Fuck Eric. I’m - I love you.” 

Eric’s mind raced at Dele’s words and he thrust deep and hard.  Dele’s moan was low as he dug his nails into Erics’s shoulder. Eric felt the hot, wetness of come on his stomach as Dele twitched beneath him, his eyes rolled back as his orgasm took over. The feel of Dele’s asshole clenching around his dick made his vision blurr and he felt the heat shoot down his spine as he came undone. He shuddered and let out a moan as he came, collapsing on top of Dele, unable to support himself as his whole body trembled. He planted his face down on the pillow over Dele’s shoulder and tried to steady his breathing. 

Dele drew lazy circles over his back and shifted slightly underneath him. Eric pulled out and felt a trickle of come roll down his thigh. He kissed Dele’s neck and worked his way round until their mouths met. Dele grabbed his face and lifted his head up. 

“Eric. I. What I said. I don’t know-” 

Eric shushed him with another kiss, cupping his face and rubbing his thumb along his jaw. When he pulled back Dele’s eyes were glistening and he looked away, blinking. Eric felt the familiar prick of tears again and he gently moved Dele’s face so he was facing him. 

_ Why did we wait so long?  _

“I love you too Del,” Eric whispered. A tear ran down Dele’s cheek and Eric caught it with his lips. He felt lighter, like a weight had been lifted and he smiled as tears ran down his own cheeks. Dele laughed and wiped them away. Eric kissed him again and Dele wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him in. Every single doubt that had niggled away at Eric evaporated with the touch of Dele’s lips. And as they whispered those three words over and over again to each other Eric vowed to make sure they made up for all that lost time. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another little flashback for you all! As always comments are super appreciated :)


	10. Realisations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eric realised that he had never been the brave one in the first place, not back then and certainly not now.

It had been seven hours and Eric could still feel Dele’s lips on his. He could still feel the ghost of his touch as he’d grabbed at the back of his neck, at his t-shirt, at his face. He could hear the way he’d whispered his name, saying it over and over as if he were learning how to string the letters together again. It had felt like coming home and Eric had realised that all of the colour had been drained out of his world for so long that he’d become used to the greyness. Dele was the brightness that had been missing and Eric could feel his world shifting with every passing minute. It was like everything had come back into focus. 

Once they had stopped, pulling back from the kiss, they had stared at each other. It was an odd sensation, looking at someone you used to know everything about and realising that there was now a long list of memories that made them who they were that you hadn’t been a part of. That there were so many moments and instances that you didn’t share when at one point your lives had been so intrinsically linked that people couldn’t think of one of you without the other. Eric’s chest had ached at the idea of how much he had missed, that he hadn’t witnessed Dele grow into the man that had stood in front of him. So he’d kissed him again, the need to connect the Dele he had once known to the one that now melted under his touch threatening to overwhelm him. 

There had been so much racing through his mind, so much that he wanted to say, that he wanted to know but he couldn’t find the words. He knew that he needed to tread carefully, that this thing between them was fragile. One wrong move, an assumption or a badly worded question and it could shatter to pieces right there in his hands. Dele had been quiet, telling Eric what he wanted him to know through the brush of his fingers and a shy smile. Neither of them acknowledged what was hanging between them. That whatever this was couldn’t last. That Eric would have to leave again. That even as they stood holding each other they were worlds apart and reality would soon come creeping back in. So instead of doing the sensible thing and chalking it off as another moment of madness Dele had cupped Eric’s cheek in his palm and smiled. He’d told him he had some media stuff to deal with but that he would ring him when he was done. And Eric had nodded. Had moved his head and placed his mouth to Dele’s palm and told him he’d busy himself, that he’d wait for Dele. 

He’d been waiting for five years, half a day was nothing. 

Which was how he found himself lay on his bed in his hotel room, flicking through the channels and glancing at his phone as another hour slipped by. He glanced up at the window, the sky visible through the gap in the heavy, burgundy curtains. The day had started to give way to dusk and Eric tried not to let the fact that the sun had long slipped from view bother him. Dele had a life. A life that had carried on without him, that had grown and been filled with things that Eric didn’t know about. He’d been a busy guy back then, constant meetings and interviews and Eric could very well imagine that it had only got worse. Or better, for Dele anyway. He sighed and ran a hand over his face before lifting his phone up for what must have been the thousandth time. The clock stared back up at him and he unlocked the screen. He hovered his thumb over the WhatsApp icon and chewed at his bottom lip. Should he message Dele? Ask him how long he was going to be? If he was still planning on ringing? Doubt settled in his stomach and he shifted on to his side, keeping the screen in front of his face. He’d done this exact same thing five times already. Stared at that little flashing black line, fingers poised but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t type out a simple ‘where are you?’ because the words were loaded with so much meaning and he was scared that anything he might say would make Dele stand back and question what they were doing. 

So instead he waited some more, the minutes bleeding into another hour. He was picking at a thread in the seam of the duvet cover when his phone buzzed next to his hand. He picked it up and held his breath as he turned it over, the screen illuminating as it moved. He almost let out a laugh as he saw a message from Harry fill the notification box and he rolled over onto his back, blinking up at the ceiling. He couldn’t quite believe that he was thirty years old, lying on a hotel bed, disappointed over the fact the message on his phone wasn’t from the boy he liked. Once again he marvelled at how so much time had passed but how little had actually changed. He was still that young boy, with butterflies dancing in his stomach, wondering how this chaotic whirlwind of a person had walked into his life and completely taken over. He’d been back in London for a little under seventy two hours and everything had been turned upside down. He opened the message and scanned over the words. Harry was asking how the day had gone and Eric scoffed, thinking about how Harry would react if he just told him he’d been in his hotel room all day. Instead he quickly fired off a reply, being honest about the fact Dele still hadn’t called him and dropped his phone on his chest.The conversation they’d had just before they left the cafe played in his head again and Eric wondered whether he was now imagining Dele telling him he’d phone him. He closed his eyes and conjured up an image of Dele, the feel of his hand on his cheek. Seventy two hours he’d been in London and Dele had been on his mind for forty eight of them. No, nothing had changed at all. 

He must have dozed off because he woke with a start at the sound of his ringtone filling the room. He’d fallen asleep on his back and his neck ached as he pulled his head up, searching next to him for his phone. A quick glance at the window told him that the sky between the curtains was now dark, a clear night, full of stars. Eric sighed as his phone continued to ring and he placed his hand on it, dragging it towards him on the mattress. His stomach jolted as he turned it over and he registered the name. He’d been expecting it to be his mum or one of his brothers and his cheeks heated as he read the word ‘Delboy’. He stared at the screen for a few seconds, wondering how he was supposed to answer the phone and sound normal. He couldn’t believe how such a small thing was bothering him so much. He and Dele must have had thousands of phone conversations whilst he was at Spurs. There were times when Dele would facetime him in the evening and they’d just go about their nights, phones propped up, talking nonsensically about anything and everything. And now here he was worried about answering the phone and picking the right way to say hello without it sounding forced. He took a deep breath and dragged his thumb across the bottom of the screen before lifting the phone to his ear. He didn’t even have a chance to start the conversation before Dele started talking. 

“Hey, sorry it’s so late, the last meeting went on for longer than I thought it would. I’ve been thinking about you for the last hour, thinking that you were probably thinking I’d bailed.”

Dele’s words were coming out thick and fast and Eric couldn’t help but smile at how animated he sounded. He tried to ignore the swell in his chest as he thought about the fact he’d been on Dele’s mind. Dele was still babbling away, moaning about how he hated the admin side of things and Eric felt like telling him that he’d always been the same but he didn’t know if he could. He just wanted to stay silent, let Dele chat away. Because it felt like he’d been transported back five years in time. As he sat there on his bed, listening to Dele bounce from one sentence to the next, he felt the warmth of familiarity rush through him and he was scared that if he pierced that with his voice it would pop and he’d never be able to get it back. 

“So yeah, anyway like I said I’m sorry. I didn’t realise what the time was. I hope you aren’t annoyed?”

“Annoyed? No it’s fine, I know how these things can be,” his voice cracked as he answered and he scrunched his face hoping that Dele hadn’t caught it. There was a moments silence and he scrambled around for something to say but all he could think about was the sinking feeling in his stomach as he prepared himself for Dele to let him down. He started fiddling with the string on his hoodie, rolling it between his fingers as he listened to the background noise of wherever Dele was. He took a breath and was about to start talking when Dele beat him to it again. “I’ll stop boring you, I know how much you used to hate all the fashion talk.” Eric’s chest squeezed and he wanted to tell Dele he was wrong. That he’d never once been bored listening to Dele talk about anything, that even though he hadn’t understood a lot of the fuss about samples or mood boards he had understood the light in Dele’s eyes whenever something new or exciting was happening. But he couldn’t distill that into a sentence that wouldn’t feel like overstepping the mark and he wondered if this was how it was going to be now, whether he was always going to have to measure his words for fear of saying something that would ruin it. “No don’t be silly, it’s important to you,” he let the rest of the sentence hang between them and he heard Dele hum in response. “But yeah don’t worry about it being late, if you want to rear-” a sudden knock at the door made him snap his head up and he told Dele to hang on as he lifted himself off the bed. Dele hummed again and Eric questioned whether Dele might think he’d invited someone over to see him. He was readying a response to that unfounded assumption as he pulled open the door. The words died in his throat as he was greeted with the sight of Dele stood with his phone to his ear, a tentative smile on his face. 

“Hey.”

“Hey.” 

 

***

Eric nudged at the pancake in front of him with his fork before piercing one of the blueberries and popping it into his mouth. He lifted his gaze and smiled slightly as Ivy and Vivienne skipped through the kitchen, iPad cradled in Ivy’s arms. Harry shouted after them from the other side of the breakfast bar, holding a cup of coffee up his mouth. Vivienne turned around and told him they were showing Uncle Dele something so iPad time was allowed and Harry rolled his eyes as she sauntered out of the room. “Living in a house full of women is hard work mate,” he commented and Eric let out a little laugh. “Right, sorry where were you? So he showed up at your hotel?” Harry’s voice was hushed and Eric glanced over his shoulder, double checking that the door to the hallway was closed. He drew in a breath and nodded slowly, thinking back to the night before. 

His chest ached slightly as he remembered letting Dele into his room, watching him as he glanced briefly at the bed before pulling out the chair from underneath the dressing table and sinking down into it. Eric had hovered near the door, not really knowing what to do or say. He hadn’t been expecting Dele to turn up, he’d all but convinced himself that he actually wouldn’t see Dele again at all. So to have him in his hotel room, seeing him sitting only a few metres away was enough to make his head spin. Their conversation had been fairly pedestrian, neither of them seemingly wanting to bring up the moment in the cafe corridor. Eric wasn’t sure why Dele was skirting around it but to him everything felt closed in, like being in a hotel room with him again was already a step towards an intimacy they hadn’t shared in a very long time. Eric had sat on the bed, legs awkwardly cast over the side, back slumped against the headboard and he recalled how odd it had felt to have Dele so close but so far away from him at the same time. 

He’d let Dele do most of the talking. Allowing him to lead the conversation and it meandered down paths both well trodden and completely untouched. To the unknowing eye Dele would probably have seemed completely at ease. He was slouched low in the chair, legs spread out wide and he gesticulated with his hands as he spoke. He laughed in the right places and allowed Eric to fill the gaps, giving him time to add his own narrative to whatever it was that was going on between them within the four walls of this particular hotel room. But Eric knew differently. He saw the way Dele’s thumbs danced over his finger tips. Noticed that he still bought his hand to the side of his face when he was thinking. His heart had ached when Dele had chewed the side of his mouth, his eyes flicking to the floor when another silence settled between them. It had felt like he was watching a film, an old favourite, the type where you’re sure you can’t remember anything about it but as the scenes start to unfold you find yourself whispering along, knowing what’s going to happen a split second before it actually does. 

“It was weird you know? I don’t get how when I’m with him it can feel as if no time has passed but that a millions years have gone by all at the same time.” Harry nodded and took a sip from his drink, sensing that all Eric needed was someone to talk at. “We talked about stuff from back then, mainly football, the games we played, the goals. But then he’d randomly drop in something that would catch me completely off guard.”

“Like what?”

“Well he asked me if I remembered a little cafe we visited in Greece after the Nations League because he’d been back since and couldn’t find it.” His eyes smarted as he spoke and he looked down at his plate, chasing another blueberry around with his fork. He remembered the feeling of breathlessness as Dele had looked at him, those eyes wide and shining as he waited for an answer. There had been no hint of malice in his voice, nothing that told Eric he was bringing it up to make him feel guilty. No it had simply been a question, a rehashing of the past they both shared and yet his throat had felt tight as he’d stared back at Dele. “I could barely speak,” he told Harry as he recalled how he’d stumbled through an answer about having not been back for a few years. 

“But you talked about back then in the cafe didn’t you?”

“Yeah but only in terms of what happened with me leaving. Him just bringing up something from the time before that, I just wasn’t expecting it.” 

“Do you think maybe it’s because he was gauging how you’d react?”

Eric shrugged his shoulders in response. It hadn’t felt like that. It had felt more like Dele was holding out a piece of himself, offering Eric a glimpse of the Dele from the past so that he could connect him with the one that was sat right in front of him. It had felt like what Dele was really doing was letting Eric know that he’d been on his mind too, that he hadn’t pushed him out completely, that Eric had still existed even in the smallest recess of his memory. That even though Dele had basically convinced himself that he hated Eric, the moments they had shared had stayed with him, a reminder of how he actually felt. 

“And you said nothing happened?” Harry asked, raising his eyebrows slightly. Eric shook his head. He’d wanted it too, so badly that it felt like his whole body had ached at one point. Their conversation had carried on for several hours, Dele sat in his chair, Eric lounging on the bed. There had been a point where Dele had shifted and Eric thought he was going to get up and move, maybe sit on the end of the bed but he’d simply stretched and angled his body differently. His mind had wandered, wondering what would happen if he got up, walked over to Dele and grabbed his hand. Grabbed his hand and led him back to the mattress until his knees folded. He’d been so lost in his own thoughts that he’d missed what Dele had asked him and the blush in his cheeks must have told Dele what he’d been thinking because suddenly the room had felt charged, tension hanging in the air. Eric didn’t act on it though, it wasn’t his place too. He recognised that he was the one that had reentered Dele’s life and turned it upside down. That the fact Dele was even there was some sort of miracle. 

“No, nothing happened. He stayed until just after eleven and as he left he mentioned he was coming here and asked me if I wanted to come.”

“You didn’t try to kiss him goodnight?”

“H mate I feel like I’m walking on ice that could crack at any moment, I didn’t want to ruin everything.” 

“You know for someone who is meant to be clever you don’t half act dumb sometimes.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that the guy turned up at your hotel room after working all day. He could quite easily have told you he was too tired, made some excuse. But he didn’t.”

“But it just never felt like that’s what he wanted.”

“What did you want Eric? One of you is going to have to guide whatever is happening. One of you is going to have to be brave enough to just think fuck it and to hell with the consequences.”

“And you think that should be me?”

‘Aren’t you the one trying to fix the thing you broke in the first place?”

Harry’s words felt harsh but Eric nodded, chewing at the inside of his mouth as tears stung the back of his eyes. “Look Eric mate, all I’m saying is that last time Dele put himself out there with you he got hurt. That conversation you had in the cafe might have eased the heart ache a little bit but something tells me Dele wants actions not words. You need to act, show him how you feel, don’t tell him.” He knew Harry was right. He was being cautious, trying to follow Dele’s lead. But this whole situation wasn’t an easy one and maybe it was going to take one of them just taking control for them to figure out exactly what was going on. Eric’s sighed and nodded again at Harry, his chest tight as he thought about all the ways it could go wrong. He was about to ask Harry exactly what he thought these ‘actions’ should be when Ivy and Vivienne burst through the door, pulling Dele along with them. 

The sight of their little hands firmly gripping Dele’s wrists made him laugh and he caught Dele’s eye who shrugged his shoulders. “The girls have something they want to show us and apparently it is rather important that we be in the same room,” Dele informed him and Eric nodded, raising his eyebrows dramatically. Ivy grinned at him and pointed to the empty barstool next to him, silently commanding Dele to sit down. He obeyed and heat shot through Eric as their thighs brushed against each other. He glanced sideways, catching Dele’s eye again and they both shared a small smile. Eric’s insides twisted at the almost shy look on Dele’s face and he fought the urge to reach out and grab his hand. Ivy climbed up onto the stool next to Eric and Vivienne did the same on the other side of Dele. They both giggled and looked at each other and Eric glanced over at Harry who was eyeing his daughters with a suspicious look on his face. 

Ivy busied herself on the iPad, pressing at the screen until she gave herself a little nod and pushed it along the bench. Eric furrowed his brow and looked at her. She beamed at him and then leaned forward, almost lifting herself off her chair so she could see Dele as well. “Do you know people used to think you loved each other?” she asked and the question almost made Eric fall off his chair. Harry coughed loudly and Dele stayed quiet, running his fingers over his knuckles. Ivy looked at him as though she expected an answer and Eric swallowed before inclining his head towards the iPad. “Erm, well what’s that got to do with this?” he asked, not trusting himself to actually acknowledge what she’d said about him and Dele. Her face faltered for a second but then she reached over and tapped the screen. “I’ve been watching loads of videos and I found this one, I thought maybe you and Uncle Dele would like it,” she said and she pressed play, making sure the video was full screen in the process. Eric and Dele filled the screen, young and giggling, sat in England polo shirts. For the second time in as many days Eric was transported back to a time when everything had felt simpler, happier. Only now it was just Eric and Dele, there were no clips of the others to take away from the intensity of what they were watching. Clip after clip of the pair of them played, all banter and laughter, soft looks and tiny moments that Eric had always thought had gone unnoticed. Apparently not. He could feel Dele shifting beside him, his leg bouncing up and down and he wondered what he was thinking. So many of the moments they were watching had been the foundation of their friendship, building blocks that had created the space in which they had become close. What was surprising to Eric was just how obvious it had always been. Nothing had really happened between them when most of these videos had been recorded. Yes they’d been close and may have already shared a messy kiss in a moment of celebration but that was it. But as Eric watched he studied his own face and he could see it. In the way he looked at Dele, the way he angled his body towards him. He’d always loved him, he’d just taken far too long to realise it. 

He jumped slightly as Dele reached out and tapped the screen, the bar at the bottom telling them there was only a minute or so left of the video. His stomach tightened at the thought that he was checking because he wanted it to be over, that he was sitting through this for the girls but that he didn’t really want to see how happy they had once been. “This my favourite bit,” Ivy whispered, leaning on his arm and nudging him so he concentrated on the screen.  

“The highlight of my year? Meeting you.”

Eric’s ears roared as he watched Dele speak and he wished he could rewind the video, play that sentence over and over again. There had been so many times he’d revisited the things that Dele had said to him over the years, picking them apart, analysing them until he drove himself mad. He had always thought he might have given too much weight to his words, that he’d looked for meaning where there wasn’t any. He realised now that all that had been was a futile attempt to convince himself leaving had been the right thing to do. He held his breath as he stared at the screen, waiting for the Dele in the video to speak again. 

“I don’t think you can look for love, I think it finds you.” 

It had been laughed off as soon as he’d said it but Eric remembered the split second after, the pause and the way Dele had held his stare. It had always been there, he thought, from the very beginning. Dele moved next to him and he glanced up, heart hammering against his ribcage as their eyes met. Those hazel eyes, the ones he’d dreamt about looking into again for so long were shining and the little girls talking around them were forgotten as they stared at each other. He heard Harry murmur something about them putting on a Disney film, a cheer in response but he didn’t take his eyes off Dele. They didn’t speak, didn’t even move but Eric knew. He knew Dele was realising the same thing. That they loved each other, that they always had and that they needed to find a way back no matter how hard the road ahead might be. 

“Do you want a lift home?” he asked, his voice quiet and apprehensive. 

“I’d like that.” 

 

***

Harry had appeared at Eric’s side after having shooed the girls from the room, the touch on his arm finally making him look away from Dele. He’d coughed, cheeks reddening a little as he realised they’d been sat in complete silence for a few minutes. Dele had drawn his phone out of his pocket, busying himself as Harry began to talk. 

“Sorry about that. She’s just told me that I have to tell you she hopes that you two can love each other again. I don’t know what’s got into her,” Harry said, holding his hands up. “I do,” said Kate as she entered the room, smiling warmly at them. Harry gave her a look and Eric watched as she came to stand between him and Dele. “She must have overheard me and Harry having a conversation about you two the other night. She’s just said to me that if we need anymore help fixing it then there are other videos she can show you.” Eric couldn’t help but laugh and Harry shook his head with a smile on his face. Eric had nieces and nephews, he should have known how intuitive kids should be. 

Not long after that Dele had given Eric a look and he’d made up some excuse about needing to leave and they’d slipped out after saying their goodbyes. They’d climbed into Eric’s rental car and Dele had kicked his shoes off, drawing his feet up under him. The familiarity of the move, the way in which Dele just unfolded himself made Eric feel slightly lightheaded and he’d focused on the road for a few minutes, not able to do anything else. They drove in silence for a while, Dele looking out of the window, Eric keeping both hands on the wheel. It dawned on him that this was the first time he and Dele had been alone, properly alone, for what must have been years. His mind wandered, trying to think about the last time they had been in a car together when Dele’s voice cut across his thoughts. 

“You still keep the same sweets in the glove box,” he murmured, a packet in his hand. Eric flicked his gaze sideways and lifted his shoulder. “You didn’t even like these that much,” Dele said, staring down at them in his palm. Eric chewed at his bottom lip, focusing for a second as he let a car out of the junction in front of him. The truth was he’d hated the sweets at first, they were too sugary and a little on the sour side. But Dele had insisted they always have a packet whenever they went anywhere. After a while he’d developed a tolerance for them. Dele basically force feeding as they went on another of their long, meandering drives. After he’d left he’d tried with other car snacks. Different sweets, even crisps but whenever he went to restock he always found himself picking them up. Eventually he’d just given in and bought them, the tangy citrus taste coating his mouth with the reminder of what he’d given up. “Acquired a taste for them,” he responded and he saw Dele’s mouth quirk up at the side. 

Another silence stretched between them but this once seemed to edge into comfort, the scrambling need to fill it with words not as urgent. It occurred to Eric that he hadn’t asked Dele for his address, had just started driving the route he remembered and he shifted. “You haven’t moved then?” he asked, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. Dele shook his head, sucking on a sweet and he leaned forward jabbing his fingers at the touch screen on the dashboard. “Nah same place,” he said as Eric watched him hit the bluetooth icon. His heart squeezed in his chest at the idea of seeing Dele’s house again, the fact that Dele might invite in him causing butterflies to stir in his stomach. There were so many unsaid things hanging between them, so many memories that just the simple act of him driving Dele home conjured up that it was a miracle he could concentrate on the road. The ghost of Dele’s hand on the back of his neck, the echoes of their laughter as they sang along to some ridiculous song, the hot and heavy breaths shared between them on a backseat, all of it swirled around Eric’s mind making him wish he was brave enough to just pull the car over and kiss Dele until he was breathless in his arms. But he wasn’t so he carried on driving, pushing his hand against the steering wheel and waiting for Dele to finish doing whatever it was he was doing with the bluetooth. He almost swerved off the road when the opening bars to a very familiar song began to play and he looked over at Dele. He was staring back, the look on his face was so open and so full of everything he was probably fighting to say that it made Eric feel like he couldn’t breath. 

“You fucked me on the backseat of your range to this song,” Dele breathed and this time Eric did swerve slightly as he registered what he had said. He glanced back at Dele who was now staring ahead of him, mouthing along to the lyrics. He wasn’t sure if Dele had meant to say it outloud. He looked lost in his own thoughts, his eyes glazed slightly as if he were somewhere else, reliving moments from a different time. Eric swallowed and listened for a second, letting the song fill the silence between them. He gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white as he turned onto the road that would lead him to Dele’s house. Dele had his head back against the seat and he turned to face him, flicking his gaze to Eric’s mouth. Eric didn’t answer, not until he pulled up in front of a set of metal gates that brought with them another barrage of memories. He turned the car off but made sure the music stayed on and settled back in his seat. 

“Yes I did,” he finally answered, suddenly unable to look at Dele. He didn’t know what was happening, what Dele was doing bringing up that kind of memory. Was he trying to see how he would react? Hinting at what he wanted? Reminding Eric of what he’d given up? It could be all three of those things and all of a sudden the reality of where they were and what was happening settled on Eric like a dead weight. Was this sensible? Should they really be treading this fine line? He wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch Dele, close the physical gap between them so that they could work on the far larger emotional one but at the same time he was scared. He was scared that this was a test and that by saying anything, doing anything he was going to fail. 

And then Dele’s hand was on his and it felt like everything had tipped on its axis. Yes they’d kiss in the stadium. Yes they’d kissed in the cafe. But this? This felt like something else, something deeper. They were sat in a car outside Dele’s house. The same house where Eric remembered carrying Dele up the stairs, laying him down on the bed and spending hours memorising every inch of his body. And it was Dele who had reached out, he’d closed that gap between them and it was so much more than the few metres that physically sat between them. He thought back to Harry telling him that he should be the brave one but as Dele intertwined their fingers and brushed  Eric’s palm with his thumb he realised that he had never been the brave one in the first place, not back then and certainly not now.

“Would you like to come inside?” Dele asked softly, squeezing his hand. 

“I’d like that.” 

  
  



	11. Moments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Did you ever fall in love with anyone else?”

Dele’s house was at once the place that Eric remembered and almost completely different at the same time. There were still trainers scattered haphazardly near the door, unopened boxes of what must be sponsor merch piled up under the open staircase. It smelled the same, he realised, a mixture of Dele’s aftershave and the same reed dispenser his cleaner still clearly preferred. A feeling of dejavu washed over him as he watched Dele dump his shoes down, as he copied but lined them up in the shoe rack that Dele never used. He dropped the car keys onto a side table and followed Dele as he walked down the hallway to the open plan kitchen. He stopped in his tracks when he turned the corner and was greeted with the sight of a massive piece of artwork covering a wall that had been bare when he’d last been here. Dele turned around and followed his gaze, smiling slightly as he realised what he was looking at. “Had it commissioned just after the Euro’s,” he said quietly. Eric tried not to widen his eyes as he studied the painting. It was abstract, full of grey and white and silver. It made him think of chaos and calmness all wrapped into one and he blinked a few times. “When did you find an appreciation for art?” he asked trying to keep his tone light. Dele shrugged, “I saw some one like one of the artists posts on Instagram and I thought his stuff was cool. The wall had always looked bare so thought I’d bring some culture into the place.” Eric nodded, still looking at the painting. He stepped forward and his heart jumped as he found the artists signature in the corner of the canvas. He glanced at Dele who had walked into the kitchen and pulled open the fridge. He thought he’d recognised the style. He’d been the one who’d like the photo, he had several paintings by the same artist in his apartment back in Portugal. A question balanced on the edge of his tongue but he kept quiet. He tried to tell himself that it was just a coincidence but his chest burned at the idea that Dele might have thought of him every time he walked past it. 

“Do you want a drink?” Dele asked and Eric tore his eyes away from the wall. He nodded and walked over to the kitchen area, leaning against the island as Dele turned back to face the fridge. He stared at his back as Dele reached up and grabbed a sports drink Eric remembered drinking when he was at Spurs. Dele turned around and kicked the door shut with his foot, rolling the bottle across the island towards him. Eric caught it in his hand and bought it up to his mouth, opening the lid with his teeth before taking a sip. Dele did the same and they stood across from each other, eyes meeting. It dawned on Eric that this was the first time he’d been alone with Dele, properly alone, in years. His mind wandered briefly to the last time, the image of a hotel room and Dele slipping out the door making him shake his head slightly. Dele must have caught the movement because he cocked his head to the side, brows furrowing. Eric busied himself with taking another drink and Dele let the moment pass, placing his drink down and leaning on the island. The way he clasped his hands together, body basically halfway across the marble worktop made Eric think of the way he used to do it, topless with his legs swinging outwards, pouting because Eric wasn’t giving him enough attention. He’d told himself before he entered the house that he was going to live in the moment, appreciate that Dele had invited him in but he was finding it hard. His whole trip to London had so far been full of melancholy moments and as hard as he tried he couldn’t help but let the memories take over. Three months, that was all they’d had together properly and yet it felt as though the reminders would stretch on forever. “Fifa?” Dele asked, breaking the silence and Eric nodded relief flooding through him at the fact Dele seemed to be dealing with this better than he was. 

Instead of leading Eric to the gaming room that he had no doubt still existed, Dele made his way to the cinema room. Eric’s heartbeat sped up as he stood in the doorway, taking in the large sofa, the blanket flung over the back, the soft ottoman in the middle of the room which he knew housed a secret drawer that used to hold popcorn. Dele had walked straight in and started fiddling about in the console cupboard underneath the huge projector screen that covered the far wall. Giving himself another shake Eric walked over to the sofa and dropped down, trying to ignore the way he sank down into ‘his’ spot. Dele straightened up, two playstation pads in his hands and Eric noticed his mouth quirk up at the side when he spotted where Eric was sitting. “Latest version?” he asked as Dele clambered onto the sofa and chucked himself down with barely half a metre between them. Dele gave him a look as he handed him the pad and he couldn’t help but laugh at the mock outrage. “You still as bad as I remember?” he jibed and Dele reached out to swat him on the shoulder, the contact making Eric’s cheeks burn. He could do this, he could act normal, banter with Dele about how bad he was at Fifa and not acknowledge the way Dele had already closed the gap between them by another inch. 

“Pick your team Diet and I’ll show you why no-one dares play me anymore,” Dele taunted, Eric’s nickname falling from his lips as if it were the most natural thing in the world. As if Eric hadn’t stared at his mouth after he’d said it wondering how he could get him to say it again. They concentrated for a few minutes, selecting their teams and playing around with the line up. They were both careful not to choose their own teams, instead opting for Dortmund and Atletico Madrid, a comment passing between them about Jadon’s move to Liverpool, how he’d been linked with almost every top Premier League team and how he was absolutely flying. There was a hint of nostalgia to their conversation, as if they were both thinking about the beginning of their own Premier League careers. It went unsaid but Eric knew that Dele was thinking about those two amazing seasons they’d shared before everything had started to go a bit wrong. 

They played a few games, Eric beating Dele five games to four and they slipped into a familiar rhythm. Dele called Eric out for cheating even though he wasn’t. Eric nudged Dele with his foot everytime he got a free kick, hard enough to distract him and do it wrong. They both shouted and stood up, shoulder to shoulder as they bashed at the buttons trying to outwit each other with tricks and fancy combinations. Everything seemed to melt away and it was just them, two boys playing a video game, just like they’d spent hours upon hours doing from the moment they had first become friends. Dele insisted that they play one more game, give him the chance to level out the score and Eric had rolled his eyes, knowing that no matter how much he protested or said he was getting a bit bored of Fifa there was no changing Dele’s mind. So he shrugged his shoulders and leaned forward on the sofa, hands on his elbows as he flicked through his players, sorting out the formation. He made a flippant comment about how hardly anyone had managed to beat him for the last few years and it took him a few seconds to realise that Dele was sat still, thumbs hovering over the controls, chewing at his bottom lip. His chest burned as he realised what he’d said and he wished he could rewind, put the words back in his mouth. Dele had mentioned Spurs a few times and his stomach had twinged but he’d moved past it. Clearly him mentioning his time in Portugal wasn’t something that Dele could do the same with. Eric didn’t say anything, just pressed confirm on his team and waited. He waited and watched as Dele gripped at his pad and shifted slightly, clearing his throat. Eric expected him to say something but instead Dele just made a few changes to his team and hit confirm. The loading page filled the screen and Eric swallowed as he flicked his eyes between the game and Dele. He was about to say something, anything to break the tension when Dele spoke. 

“Did you ever fall in love with anyone else?” 

The question clanged around Eric’s brain and he leaned back, dropping the playstation pad in his lap. Dele did the same and Eric thought that the feel of his shoulder against his would set him on fire. They didn’t look at each other, just sat staring ahead as their chest moved in sync, their breathing heavy. Why did Dele have to ask him that now? Everything had started to feel easy, like they’d slipped back in time, as if just for a few hours they could forget everything that had happened and just enjoy being Eric and Dele again for a while. But he supposed it was always there, hanging over them. He’d convinced himself that it wasn’t bothering Dele because he was acting so normal. Clearly he had been wrong. The truth was he didn’t know how to answer that, not without dredging up stuff that he didn’t think Dele would want to hear about. So he took a deep breath and felt a little ashamed as he responded. 

“Did you?” 

Dele stiffened beside him and Eric prepared himself for a barbed comment about him not answering the question. But it never came. Instead Dele threw his head back, resting on the back of the sofa and he sighed before shrugging his shoulders. “I thought I had,” he whispered and Eric’s stomach dropped. Dele tilted his head and looked at him. His eyes were so full of emotion that it made Eric shuffle closer towards him. He didn’t speak, just shifted until he was facing Dele, shoulder pressed into the sofa cushion. “There was someone, I was with her for almost two years, over the World Cup,” Dele said and Eric resisted the urge to tell him to stop, that he didn’t need to hear this. Because Dele quite clearly needed to say it, wherever this conversation was leading, he obviously wanted Eric to hear it.

“I’ve been thinking about her, how good she was to me, how it would have been so easy to just allow myself to love her, to be in love with her.” 

He looked at Eric, his eyes searching his face and Eric nodded, letting him know he understood. Because he did, he understood more than Dele knew. 

“There were times where I thought I was, that I was happy and I would lose myself in that feeling. Maybe for a few days or a few weeks. But it never lasted. For a long time I made myself pretend but it was exhausting. I did love her, just not like that. Not like-”

He didn’t finish the sentence and Eric felt the bite of tears at the back of his eyes as Dele sighed again and blinked up at the ceiling. The five years that they had been apart suddenly crowded the room and the knowledge that they had been two separate people with separate lives weighed down on Eric’s shoulders. The truth was Eric had tried to fill the void he’d created by leaving Dele many times over the years. With flings and meaningless one night stands, with half assed attempts at relationships that never lasted more than three months. There had been one time he had come close to thinking he’d found someone who could untangle Dele from around his heart but in the end everything had just been a pale imitation of what love was supposed to be. 

“I thought I had too. Found someone. He came into my life at such a low point and I think I confused being in love with him with him just being there when I needed someone. In another life it would have worked but, well it just wasn’t-”

Eric couldn’t finish his sentence either. Couldn’t just tell Dele that the reason it never worked out was because everytime he woke up and saw his dark skin against the white of the sheets his mind created a tapestry of tattoos on his back that wasn’t there. That the fact he liked salted popcorn and not sweet was an actual major sticking point in their relationship. That there were several times he’d called him by the wrong name and that’s what had been the final straw. 

“Do you want to hear something funny?” Dele asked, his voice quiet and Eric nodded feeling a bit confused. “She was blonde, grew up in Portugal and liked art,” he said, letting out a short sardonic laugh. Eric couldn’t help but smile as he swallowed around the lump in his throat. “Oh yeah? Well mine had a fashion line and was heavily into gaming,” he replied. There was a moments pause and Eric wondered whether that was it, the day was ruined. But then Dele started giggling, shaking his head as he nudged Eric with his shoulder. “What a pair we make,” he commented and Eric couldn’t help but laugh back as the thick tension that had coated the room disappearing slightly as they fell onto each others shoulders. 

***

“Did you really just rage quit?” Eric asked, throwing Dele an incredulous look. He’d just scored again to make the game 3-0 when the screen had changed and he realised what Dele was doing. Dele held his hands up and scrunched up his face, throwing his pad down next to him. “I’m bored, let’s do something else,” he retorted and Eric laughed as he placed his pad down next to him. Dele had won the game before, making it all level at five games to five. Eric had once again suggested that they do something but Dele had insisted they play again, taunting Eric about how he was going to win. “I’m glad to see something’s haven’t changed,” he teased and Dele poked him hard on the thigh. He batted his hand away and Dele kicked out his leg, aiming for his knees but Eric wrapped his fingers around Dele’s ankle and pulled his so that he slipped onto his back. Dele wriggled around, trying to hit Eric but he just moved away whilst still holding onto this foot. “Still can’t win in a play fight either?” he said as he shifted backwards, bring his knees underneath him on the sofa. He grabbed Dele’s knee with his free hand and tugged, pulling Dele towards him. Dele reached up and grabbed Eric’s elbows, shouting in protest as he tried to get him to let go of his legs. Eric knew he was stronger than Dele, knew that there wasn’t much he could actually do to make him let go but he relaxed his grip just a little and the next time Dele gave his forearms a forceful shove he ended up almost collapsing between his legs, the fact that Dele had instinctively widened the gap making his pulse jump. “You were always a bully,” Dele said, his voice wavering as Eric adjusted his arms so he was balanced on his elbows. His hips shifted with the movement and they both looked at each other as they realised Dele had wrapped his legs around Eric’s calves. 

They stayed still for a few seconds and Eric was grateful he’d made sure his arms were stable because it felt like the rest of him had turned to jelly. His mind was racing as he considered the warmth of Dele’s body underneath his, how easy it had been to forget for a few minutes and just act like nothing had changed. Now that the moment had broken, he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what to do with the fact he had Dele pinned to his sofa, the fact that Dele had allowed it to happen or with the fact that Dele had just bought his hands up and spread them across his chest. He glanced down at the long, slender fingers, ran his gaze along the arms that were covered in tattoos he used to trace with his lips and finally met the stare of those hazel eyes that he had dreamt of seeing again for so long. Dele bit his lip and gave him a shy smile, raising his hands over Eric’s shoulders and squeezing gently. “Get out of your own head Diet,” he whispered and Eric almost collapsed onto him as he heard that nickname for the second time. He swallowed hard and nodded, breath catching in his chest. It was like the moment in the car again, with Dele taking the lead and letting Eric know it was OK to let go, to trust whatever was happening. He didn’t know how Dele appeared to be so calm when his own heart was threatening to beat out of his chest. 

“Shall we put a film on? Something old on Netflix?” Dele asked, his words and his gaze telling Eric that everything was fine, there was no need to panic. Eric smiled and nodded, the words “Netflix and chillin’,” slipping out before he could stop himself and Dele hummed, wiggling his eyebrows. They both laughed, with no need to vocalise the shared memory they were both thinking of. Dele squeezed Eric’s shoulders again and he wriggled underneath him, unravelling their legs. “Ok but I need you to move you big lump, the settings need changing,” he said as Eric lifted himself up, allowing Dele to slide out from underneath him. The loss of Dele’s body heat and the sudden need to sit properly again on the sofa made Eric feel a bit weird and he shuffled around, trying to get comfortable. He was still basically in the spot where Dele had been sitting before he’d pulled him down and he wondered whether he should move back over, create some space between them again. ‘Get out of your own head Diet.’ Dele’s words reverberated around his brain and he stared at Dele, running his hand absentmindedly over the place where he’d just been lying. Was he overthinking things? Was it weird that he couldn’t help but read into everything that happened between them? He wanted to relax, to just let things happen but a part of him was scrambling to document everything from the way Dele looked at him, to the way his hands had felt against his chest, to the way they had just slotted together again so naturally because he didn’t know how long this would last. He didn’t know when the bubble was going to burst and reality was going to come sweeping back in. 

His train of thought was cut off when Dele straightened up and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He played around on it as he walked back over to the sofa, the lights dimming as he did so. Eric considered moving one last time before Dele dropped down on the sofa. He put his phone down, grabbed one of the small pillows that were scattered in the corner and without saying anything propped it against Eric’s thigh. Eric held his breath as Dele lowered himself down, tucking his hand underneath the pillow just an inch. He could feel the pressure of his fingertips against his leg and it was all he could do to stay still. The film started and Eric recognised it as some action movie they had watched several times before. He couldn’t remember the exact plot but he did recall having never watched it all the way through. Sweat prickled the back of his neck and he stared down at Dele who had picked his phone back up. He watched as he scrolled through Instagram and silently scolded himself for trying to figure out who Dele was following. He settled back, allowing the weight of Dele’s head on his thigh to comfort him and focused on the film. It was all so familiar, the warmth of the room, the comfiness of the sofa and he thought it might be the first time he’d felt anything close to contentment in years. This was what his life had been like, what he had regretted giving up and he couldn’t believe they had fallen back into sync with one another so easily. 

A soft thud indicated that Dele had dropped his phone to the floor and Eric stiffened as Dele moved his hand, his fingers brushing over his thigh. “This is nice,” Dele whispered as he repositioned himself so he was lying on his side and he glanced over his shoulder, eyes briefly meeting Eric’s gaze. Eric felt like he couldn’t breath, let alone talk so he raised his hand and squeezed the back of Dele’s neck, allowing his thumb to caress the soft skin of his nape. Dele turned back to face the screen and Eric considered his hand for a second before deciding to leave it there. Everytime he touched Dele it was like rediscovering the sensation again, remembering all the little details about him that he had forced to the back of his mind. The feel of the tiny wispy curls at the bottom of Dele’s hairline made him think of a Greek sunset watched from a king size bed with the patio doors flung open and he couldn’t resist the urge to run his thumb along it again, focusing on the way the hairs moved under his touch. He felt Dele shiver slightly and then he stiffened as he felt Dele lift his own arm. Heat shot through Eric as he started to draw lazy circles on his thigh, dragging his fingertips over the soft material of his joggers. Eric kept a grip on Dele’s neck and allowed himself to focus on the feel of Dele’s fingers. It was such a simple thing. He wasn’t even touching his skin and yet it felt like he was flayed open, like Dele had driven down to the core of him and recognised what he missed the most. Because yes he missed the sex and the feel of Dele’s lips on his but most of all he had missed this. The little moments they had shared, the ones that didn’t involve grand gestures or declarations. No, it was the sound of Dele’s laugh when they shared a joke, the glint in Dele’s eye when he was in one of his cheeky moods and the feel of Dele’s fingers as they casually traced a map over his body, clothed or unclothed. That’s what he missed. Because that had been Dele’s way of telling him ‘I love you’ without saying the words out loud and Eric hadn’t realised how much of a hole it had left in his heart until now.

“I missed this,” Eric said softly and he lifted his hand to draw a line over the slope of his neck. Dele nodded and turned onto his back, bringing his hand up to cover Eric’s where it rested on the ball of his shoulder. Eric’s pulse thundered in his ears as he stared down at Dele, as he watched him lick his lips and then raise his other arm to cup the back of Eric’s neck. All it took was a gentle push and Eric lowered his head down at the same time Dele tilted his chin upwards and their lips met. There was no build up, no small pecks or hesitation. It was open mouthed and desperate and a low moan vibrated at the back of Eric’s throat as he felt the hot wetness of Dele’s tongue lick into his mouth. This was the third time they had kissed in as many days but in almost every sense it felt like it was happening for the first time. This wasn’t a kiss that said I shouldn’t be doing this or I don’t know what this means. This was a kiss that said I need you, I want you and it was everything that had disappeared from Eric’s life five years ago when he’d ripped it all away. 

Dele’s hand was still tucked around his neck but he dropped it and broke away from the kiss. Eric widened his eyes as he started moving, wondering if he was going to say this is a mistake. But he didn’t, he lifted himself up so he was perched on his knees at Eric’s side and he leaned forward, bunching Eric’s t-shirt into his fists before he captured his mouth again, pulling at Eric’s bottom lip with his teeth. Eric twisted his upper body and grabbed at Dele’s t-shirt, lifting it up so he could run his fingers over the smooth skin on his lower back. He dug his fingernails into his sides as Dele unfurled his hands and bought them up to run his fingers through Eric’s hair. They were both breathing heavily and Eric knew it was entirely obvious the effect Dele was having on the rest of his body. It felt like white hot heat was coursing through him but he didn’t do anything other than run his fingers over Dele’s back and kiss him. This was more than he’d ever dreamed of happening and it was up to Dele how far this went, up to him if he wanted to stop. Dele broke away from the kiss again but this time it was so he could trace a line of kisses over Eric’s jaw, down the side of his neck. His lips ghosted over Eric’s skin and he shuffled closer, throwing his leg over Eric’s thighs. 

Eric didn’t know what to do, where to put his hands. He wanted to touch every part of Dele, to put his lips on every place he could possibly reach and he almost swore as he felt Dele push his hips down against his lap. “I have dreamed about this for so long,” he said into Dele’s mouth, his voice cracking and his breath short. Dele made a shushing sound and cupped Eric’s face with his palms. He kissed Eric on his eyelids, his cheeks and his nose before straightening up and staring at him. His cheeks were flushed and his lips looked bruised and Eric knew he’d never look at someone and love them more than he did in that moment. He flinched slightly as Dele started to trace his finger over his features. He outlined his jaw, his lips, the kink in his nose before lowering his touch and focusing on the dip at the base of his throat.  
“I missed you,” Dele said, running his thumb over Eric’s bottom lip. “I missed you so much it hurt. It physically hurt.” Eric nodded, the familiar burn of tears making his vision swim. “It felt like my chest had been cleaved in two, like there was a massive hole there and nothing would ever fill it. I have spent five years chasing that feeling, trying to feel whole again. I wanted to be over you and I think sometimes I convinced myself that I was but this? Right here?” he spread his left hand on Eric’s chest, where his heart was beating faster than it ever had done before “This is what was missing.” Before Eric could speak Dele’s mouth was back on his, his hands were under his t-shirt, fingers scolding his skin and he lost himself in the sensation. There was so much he wanted to say, to tell Dele but he knew words weren’t what Dele wanted, weren’t what he needed. What he needed was for Eric to kiss him back and that’s what he did. He tried to convey everything he had wanted to say to Dele in the pressure of his lips, the caress of his hand, the buck of his hips. 

They carried on for what felt like an eternity and Eric never wanted it to end. Dele didn’t make to move past just kissing and Eric was fine with that. It was hot and heavy and laced with the promise of what might happen if the both of them wanted it too. Eric’s top was rucked up around his chest and his breath hitched as Dele leaned down and kissed his stomach, sucking at the soft skin that stretched across his abs before he moved back up and licked into his mouth. Dele knew what he was doing, knew all the ways in which he had once unravelled Eric using only his mouth. An idea dropped into his head as Dele sucked at his bottom lip and he fought the urge to say it, not wanting to break the moment. But it wouldn’t let up and the more Dele kissed him, the braver their hands got as they roamed each others bodies and the harder Dele pressed down onto his groin the harder it was to keep it quiet. The feel of Dele’s hand on his crotch, the first time he’d travelled lower than the waistband of his joggers was what did it and he couldn’t stop the words from spilling out of his mouth into the tiny gap between them. 

“Come to Portugal with me.” 

Dele stopped and pulled back, mouth open and eyes wide. Sheer panic washed over Eric and a dead weight settled in his stomach as he stared back at Dele. He’d ruined it. The day they had been having had been so enclosed in the room they were in, surrounded by the past that allowed them to pretend that nothing had changed, that they were still the same people they had been back then. But he’d done it. He’d popped the bubble and it felt like everything had dimmed. Dele’s hands had found their way to the hem of his t-shirt and he looked down as he fiddled with it, stretching the material between his thumbs and his forefingers. His face was closed off and Eric wanted to scream at how stupid he had been. “Del? Look I didn’t mean - I don’t know why I - say something please,” he pleaded, bracketing the bottom of Dele’s back with his hands. Dele looked up at him, opening and closing his mouth a few times before pulling Eric’s t-shirt down and setting his shoulders. He opened his mouth again and was about to speak when a sound came from the floor. 

“There is someone at your front door.” The notification repeated itself and Dele gave him an apologetic look before climbing off Eric’s lap and reaching down to pick up his phone. Eric adjusted his top and sat back up in his seat, running a hand over his face as Dele swiped his thumb over his phone screen. It didn’t escape Eric’s notice that he turned away as he opened up the app to bring up the video feed from his front door. “Oh hey man, what’s up?” Dele asked and Eric sat still waiting for whoever it was to respond. Kyle’s voice filled the room as he answered and Dele shot a furtive glance towards him.

“Hey Del, I came to pick up that console, need it for the tournament with the lads tonight.”  
“Oh shit yeah, sure let me buzz you in.”  
“Cheers.”

Dele locked his phone and shoved it in his pocket. He looked at Eric as though he wanted to say something but thought better of it and walked out of the room. Eric felt like he was drowning, like everything around him was blurring at the edges. He balled his hands into fists and focused on the bite of his nails against his palms. He listened as he heard Dele open the front door and exchange a few words with Kyle. What had Dele been about to say before they were interrupted? He wasn’t sure he wanted to know because the look in Dele’s eyes had told him enough. He’d overstepped. He’d read the situation wrong. He’d mentioned the one thing that was one hundred percent sure to make Dele question everything that had happened since they had met in the cafe the day before. He smashed it all to pieces. Again. 

A shadow appeared on the carpet and Eric looked up. He was greeted with the sight of Kyle stood at the door. He looked around the room, taking in the scattered cushions, the film still playing on the screen and then he looked at Eric. The look in his eyes was enough to tell Eric that it was obvious what him and Dele had been doing and the judgment radiating from Kyle’s stare was enough to make him feel angry. A retort was forming in his mouth and Eric was about to explain that nothing had happened and that Kyle needed to mind his own damn business when he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. He pulled it out and his stomach dropped at the sight of his agents name on the screen. A quick glance up at Kyle told him that he wasn’t going anywhere and he sighed as he accepted the call. 

“Hey Rich.”  
“Yeah I’m still in London.”  
“What? No I was told by Sandra I just need to let her know when I wanted a return booking.”

He could feel Kyle staring at him, knew he was trying to listen to the other end of the phone call so he tried to keep his replies short. He listened to Rich talk about his upcoming pre-preseason media commitments and he hummed in the right places, letting him know he understood. He just wanted Rich to get to the point, tell him when exactly it was he needed to be back. Dread was settling in his stomach and his chest felt tight. How long did he have left to fix what he’d just done? To find out what Dele was going to say? To see if there was anyway they could make this work?  
“We need you to be flying home in four days. The morning of, to be arriving back in time for an evening club engagement.”

Four days. Three days really. It wasn’t enough. 

“Ok,” he said looking up as he spoke. He knew Kyle had heard what Rich had said from the shake of his head and the way he scoffed. They both glanced toward the hallway as they heard Dele shout, telling Kyle he’d found what he’d come for. Before he turned to walk away Kyle pinned Eric with a stare and even though there was no reason for Eric to feel intimidated he sat stock still as Kyle spoke. 

“I swear if you break his heart again.”

He didn’t finish the sentence, just turned around and yelled to Dele that he was coming, leaving Eric with a stomach full of lead and the feeling that once again he was running out of time.


	12. Confrontations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I know you asked him to go to Portugal with you.”

Eric’s eyes flicked over the passing houses and he resisted the urge to rest his forehead on the window. He glanced over at Harry, who was fiddling with the volume button on the steering wheel and he wished he’d offered to drive. If he’d offered to drive then he’d have something to focus on, he could pretend he needed to concentrate to remember the way and he wouldn’t have to sit in awkward silence after Harry’s questions, the ones he knew were coming. He shifted in his seat and flipped his phone around in his hand. They were heading to Hotspur Way. The team had one last lot of media commitments before they were officially released for the summer break and when Harry had messaged Eric asking him if he’d wanted to join him, he’d said yes. He’d said yes in the hours after Dele had kissed him in the cafe when his heart had felt too big for his chest and the idea of visiting the place where it had all started seemed like some sort of poetry. Now though? Now it felt like he was just headed into another scenario that would leave him being chased by ghosts and reminded of the fact that nothing had really changed. 

“Mate are you even listening?” 

Harry’s voice cut across his thoughts and Eric dropped his phone onto his lap before running a hand over his face. He unfolded his legs and shuffled against the back of his seat before turning to face Harry. “Sorry, what did you say?” he asked and Harry let out a long sigh. There was a moment's pause as he gave way to an oncoming car and Eric stared ahead of him, wondering if the feeling of dread that had once again settled in his stomach would finally dissipate when he left London. He had a feeling he knew what Harry had said but he waited for him to repeat the question anyway, anticipating the way it would make his chest constrict. 

“What the fuck happened? I thought you’d be on cloud nine this morning but you’re sat there looking like someone has died.” 

Eric almost laughed but he swallowed the sensation and huffed a breath through his nose instead. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes. He didn’t really want to rehash over the events from the day before. He didn’t want to have to revisit the way his heart had plummeted as he’d walked out of Dele’s house without an answer to his own question. He didn’t want to think about the way everything had felt different the moment Kyle had left and he’d been alone with Dele again. How the ease and familiarity that had settled over them had disappeared. How it had felt like they were right back at fucking square one again and it was all because of him and his stupid big mouth. No, he didn’t want to tell Harry about any of it but he knew he was going to have too. 

“Whatever happened, it couldn’t have been that bad,” Harry quipped, briefly meeting Eric’s gaze and giving him a reassuring look. Eric sighed and sat up straight, fiddling with the zip of his jacket. He took a deep breath and looked down at his hands as he spoke. 

“I asked him to come to Portugal with me.” 

There was no point in telling some long, winding story about how the day had been so perfect up until that point. How Dele had kissed him in the cafe and then kissed him again at his house. How Dele had placed his hand over Eric’s heart and said that it was what he’d been missing. How Kyle’s words had been reverberating around his brain as he’d tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep. How he couldn’t get the image of Dele’s eyes out of his head as he’d left, the unanswered question stretching between them. All that Harry needed to know was that he’d fucked it again and now he was having to deal with the fact that he’d probably ruined his last chance to set things right. 

“And he said no?” Harry asked, eyes trained on the road. Eric shook his head, taking a second to gather his thoughts before speaking again. “No, he didn’t say anything.” Harry furrowed his brow and Eric chewed on his bottom lip, suddenly wishing he was back in his hotel room. His heart was racing and if this was how he felt just talking about what had happened, he didn’t want to think about what he’d feel like when he saw Dele later on. Because he would see Dele and his stomach lurched at the realisation. 

“So he’s thinking about it? Or he just ignored the question?”

“I don’t know and no, he didn’t really ignore it.”

“Eric, mate please stop talking in riddles. What happened?”

Fuck he hated this. It felt like he was picking at a scab that wasn’t ready to come off yet. It wasn’t enough that he’d spent the whole night going over every single moment from yesterday over and over again, he now had to do it with Harry. But Harry was his friend and he knew he wouldn’t let up so Eric steadied himself and started to speak. 

“We went to his and it was perfect. We played Fifa and watched a film and it was just like old times. He was so relaxed H, it was like he’d let his guard down and he allowed me in. He kissed me and told me I was what he’d been missing. I don’t know why I said it. I should have just kept my mouth shut and enjoyed the moment but he was all over me and the thought just dropped into my head and fuck the thought of him saying yes just took over and I said it. So fucking stupid.” 

He stopped talking and bounced his fist on the door. Watching his hand as he mulled over the little details he’d missed out. The feel of Dele’s lips on his skin, the weight of him as he’d straddled his thighs. His eyes smarted and he blinked, cursing himself for allowing the situation to become what it had. 

“I shouldn’t have come back H.”

“Eric, mate, don’t you think you might be being a little bit dramatic? So he didn’t answer, that doesn’t mean it’s a no does it?”

“Kyle turned up just after I asked him, needed to pick something up. After he’d gone Dele was different, distant. Kyle had warned me about breaking his heart again when Dele had been upstairs and my head was a mess so I just made some excuse and left.”

“You walked out?”

“No, I didn’t walk out. I asked Dele if he wanted to talk about it but he didn’t really answer so I said I’d give him some space. He didn’t put up a fight.”

“The pair of you need your heads banging together.”

Harry shook his head as he turned onto the road that would lead them to the training ground and Eric looked at him with his eyebrows raised. Harry glanced at him and let out a laugh before slowing to a stop at the security gates. Eric lifted his hand in a wave at the security guard, the ‘long time no see’ making his chest squeeze. Today really was going to be full of his past. Again. Harry closed the window and rolled through the open gates, staying silent until he’d pulled into his parking space. The engine idled but Harry made no move to get out of the car. Instead he turned to face Eric and looked him straight in the eye. 

“Stop acting like you’ve ruined it. I thought Dele was supposed to be the dramatic one. You asked him a question. A rather big and loaded question. So it’s not a surprise he didn’t answer straight away. You’ve been out of his life for five years Eric. Think how confused you feel right now and then try and imagine how he must feel.” 

He made to open his mouth but Harry lifted his hand up and he shut he sat back, watching as Harry looked towards the entrance to the training ground. “Allow him some time. I know you don’t have much left but he needs it. And I know what you are going to say, what if he says no? Then you go back to Portugal and you get over him. But Eric, what if he says yes?” 

Harry didn’t wait for a response, he just opened his car door and got out. Eric’s pulse was roaring in his ears and he blinked hard, fighting back the tears. How had he got here? He’d come back knowing he’d see Dele but he hadn’t bargained on handing his heart over to him again. And now he had to spend the day with his question hanging over him, waiting for an answer that would change everything, one way or the other. 

 

***

 

A couple of hours later Eric found himself sat in the physio room, laughing and smiling as he caught up with the people that had helped him through the tough times he’d had towards the end of his time at Spurs. He’d spent the majority of his time wandering around the training ground, visiting the people who made the place tick, the ones that stayed whilst everything else changed around them. The ache in his chest had eased slightly as the morning had gone on. Everyone he had spoken to had been all smiles, clapping him on the back, kissing his cheek and he genuinely felt happy to see them all again. The physios had all cheered when he’d walked in, questions about how his hips where and comments about how he hadn’t changed a bit flying around. He’d spent a lot of time with the three guys who were chatting away at him and even though it was a place most footballers tried to avoid Eric had always looked back on the time he’d spent with them fondly. They had looked after him during a very rough period and if it hadn’t been for them and their commitment to getting him better it would have been much harder than it was. So much of his visit to London had been wrapped up in memories that revolved around Dele and it was nice to escape that for a while. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out, laughing at the mention of how attached to that thing he used to be. 

H: Done, finally! Canteen?

He fired off a reply and said goodbye to the physio team, wishing them well. He made his way down the corridor and smiled. Being on his own, walking from the physio room to the canteen felt like deja vu and he slowed his pace. He glanced out of the large windows as he walked past, looking out over the training fields. There was no-one else around and it felt like he had travelled back in time. It felt like if he listened hard enough he’d be able to hear Sonny shouting ‘how’s your touch’ or Winksy telling everyone to fuck off as they pelted him with snowballs. He could picture Jan and Toby, walking down the corridor deep in conversation about something they’d seen on the news back home, the Argentine boys laughing in their own language, Danny and Trips arguing over something with grins on their faces. Of course there were harder moments that he remembered, frustration and resentment that had sometimes bubbled over when things weren’t going well but Hotspur Way had always felt like it was separate from all of that. It was where they had all grown close, worked together and laughed together, created a bond that at the time had felt unbreakable. Whispers of other memories brushed at the edge of his mind and he tried to bat them away but they threatened to crowd in anyway. He couldn’t help but hear that stupid giggle, picture the silly dances, feel the weight of an arm around his shoulder. The press of a mouth against his, the widened stare glistening with tears. Eric shook his head and upped his pace, his stomach twisting as he left the ghosts behind and thought about who he might be making his way towards. 

The canteen was a bustle of activity and Eric felt bombarded with the noise after the silence of the corridor. It was bright and full of people, screens filled with dietary information adorning the walls. It was all so familiar, the layout hadn’t changed and his eyes drifted over the round tables, gaze falling onto the seat where he used to sit every morning to eat his eggs on toast. A shout grabbed his attention and he looked over, a weird bubble swelling in his stomach at the sight of some academy boys celebrating what appeared to be an Uno win over in the far corner. He lingered on them for a moment longer, noting the way they draped their arms over each other as they jumped around and he couldn’t help but let out a sigh. So young and carefree, an unwritten future ahead of them. His eyes slid over the rest of the room and he tried to ignore the growing anticipation as he searched. 

“He’s still busy mate, always in demand is our Del.” The weight of Harry’s hand on his shoulder made Eric jump slightly and he turned his head, ready to tell Harry that he wasn’t looking for Dele but the look in his friends eyes told him that the argument would be futile. “Have you really not had any contact with him since you left his yesterday?” Harry asked and Eric shook his head, thinking about the messages that he had typed then deleted and retyped again the night before. He’d wanted to message Dele and tell him that it had been a mistake, that he hadn’t meant to say it, that it was just a reaction to how Dele had made him feel. And he’d had it there in front of him, ready to send but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t do it because it was a lie, another lie to add to the pile that had created the mess between them in the first place. He couldn’t do it because the reality was that he wanted Dele to go to Portugal with him more than he had wanted anything since he’d first had Dele under him all those years ago. 

“Well he asked me if you’d be here today.”

“Probably because he was hoping you’d say no.”

“Or because he actually wants to see you. Go sit down, I’ll be over in a second.” 

Eric watched as Harry made his way over to another set of tables and clapped a photographer on the back, all smiles and handshakes. A sharp pang of what felt like jealousy stabbed at his chest as he made his way to an empty table. It was so easy for Harry. Mr Tottenham Hotspur with his wife, two kids and a fanbase that still adored him. He had everything he wanted and there was no having to hide from the world and move away because of it. He could just be. Another sigh escaped him as he sat down and grabbed a water bottle from the cooler in the middle of the table, the condensation slick against his hands. As he twisted the cap between his fingers, he looked up and bristled at the sight of Kyle coming towards him. A quick glance to his side confirmed that Harry was still engaged in conversation and annoyance flooded him as he watched Kyle pull out the chair on the opposite side of the table and drop down into it. 

“I’m not here to argue or be a dick,” Kyle said, not giving Eric the chance to speak. Eric raised his eyebrows in response but stayed quiet, the look on Kyle’s face completely contradicting what had just come out of his mouth. Kyle waited a few seconds before speaking again. “I’m here because Dele is my best friend.” Eric’s hand tightened around his water bottle at Kyle’s words and the way they had seared straight through is heart.  _ Best friend _ . That had been his title once. He’d been the one who had looked out for Dele, who had stood up for him even when he didn’t think he needed it. He didn’t trust himself to speak. Didn’t trust himself not to blow up at Kyle, flip the table over and scream at him. Instead he sat there and rubbed his thumb along the seam of the label on his drink and stared at Kyle. He remembered how Kyle used to act around him, shy and a little bit intimidated. Now though there was a shine of defiance in his eyes and Eric had to hand it to him, he quite clearly cared about Dele. 

“‘He’s a mess Eric. He might not show it but I know he is. You just turn up here and upend his life. You weren’t there, after you left. You didn’t have to literally piece him back together, pick him up off the floor and force him to put one foot in front of the other.” 

Eric’s pulse roared in his ears and he couldn’t concentrate on anything but the image of Dele that Kyle’s words created in his head. As Kyle talked about having to force his way into Dele’s house to make him get out of bed, having to plead with him to come to training and watch him to make sure he had something to eat, anger swirled in his stomach. He had thought about what Dele might have been like after he left, wondered if it hurt him as much as it had hurt Eric. But to hear Kyle tell him, to picture Dele broken and hiding away because of what he had done was too much. He let out a jagged breath and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the edge of the table. He suddenly felt very tired and his voice came out uneven as spoke. “I don’t want to hurt him again Kyle. That is not my intention at all. I love him and I want to fix what I broke.” He didn’t know if it was enough, the want to fix it. He didn’t know if the ache in his chest when he thought about Dele or the way his fingers danced as he imagined touching him again was enough. He didn’t know if  _ he _ was enough. But that didn’t stop the burning need he had to at least try.

“What makes you think that’s a good idea?” 

“Kyle he invited me in yesterday, I didn’t force him into anything that happened.” 

“Because it’s you Eric. Do you have any idea the hold you have over him? How long it took him to allow anyone else close to him again?”

Kyle’s words are like bullets, ripping apart the image Eric had started to build in his head after Dele had kissed him. He tried to gather up the debris, collect it against his chest and hold it tight. He revisited the weight of Dele on his thighs, the pressure of his hand over his heart, the heat of his tongue and the words that had fallen from his lips. What had felt like a lifeline now felt like shards of glass, cutting his heart to ribbons. This couldn’t be it could it? A hushed conversation in a canteen, Dele’s best friend telling him what Dele himself was too scared to say? Because this was so far removed from what he had felt before Kyle had arrived the day before. It didn’t tally up with the glisten in Dele’s eyes or the way he’d leaned down to claim Eric’s skin with his mouth. He had seen the look on Dele’s face, felt it in the way he had touched him. Dele still loved him. But once again the question crossed his mind, was that enough? 

Just as Eric was about to tell Kyle that he won’t give up, they are interrupted by a group of people walking past the table. Eric looked up and the initials on the jackets identify them as part of the coaching staff. He nodded as they made their way past and his eyes widened in surprise as he clocked a rather tall figure with the letters PDG on his jacket. There was a quick exchange of words, a slap on the back and Eric smiled as he asked Paulo how life as a coach was treating him. Once the pleasantries were over the smile fells from Kyle’s face and he levelled Eric with a stare. 

“I was there through all the choices he made after you left Eric. There was a year and a half that started with you leaving that carried on through the Euros and the start of the 2020 season where he wasn’t the same Dele, you don’t know what he was like.”

It didn’t escape Eric’s notice that Kyle repeatedly looked over his shoulder to where Paulo was sat as he spoke and a short sharp pain ran through Eric’s gut and he gripped at the edge of the table. He could ask what that statement meant, what exactly those choices were or what had prompted Kyle to say that but the moment he made to open his mouth, the fight drained out of him. What good would it do, rehashing parts of Dele’s past that he hadn’t been there to witness? To be told things that would only make the cavern that was opening in his chest grow wider? Dele had been open with him about the one time he thought he’d been in love, had thought it important enough to tell him. He didn’t need to know about anything else, not now. Besides, he thought as he pressed his fingertips into the cold metal of the table edge, he’d been one of those choices hadn’t he? 

“I know you asked him to go to Portugal with you.”

The statement cut across his thoughts and Eric leaned back, waiting for Kyle to weigh in with his opinion. Silence stretched between them and he realised Kyle was waiting for an explanation. He sighed and rubbed a hand across his face, silently begging himself to try and remain calm. “I just came out with it. But I do want him too. I think we need to spend some time trying to figure things out.” He doesn’t add the fact that he thinks him and Dele need time to reconnect, to find themselves again without anyone else interfering because suddenly there was a steely look in Kyle’s eye. 

“He doesn’t want to go.”

And there it was. The thing that Eric had been waiting for, what Kyle had clearly been building up to ever since he had sat down at the table. Eric’s stomach lurched as he fought to keep his thoughts in order. How did Kyle know? Had Dele told him that? A cacophony of noise near the entrance to the canteen cut short Eric’s opportunity to ask and Kyle shoved his chair back, leaving without so much as a backward glance as he walked over to the door. He knew it was Dele who had walked in and Eric’s heart hammered against his ribcage as he turned around, twisting in his seat. He watched as Kyle approached Dele and swung out his arm to perform their handshake. His pulse jumped as he caught Dele’s eye over Kyle’s shoulder. His ears were ringing and he pushed his chair back, bumping into Harry as he navigated around the curve of the table. He heard Harry say something, the words not quite registering and he shook his head. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t just sit there and watch as Kyle smiled at Dele, not after everything he had just told him. There was a ringing in his ears and a heavy, dead weight in his stomach as he made his way towards where the two of them were stood. He needed to know. To hear it straight from Dele’s mouth. But as the gap started to close, as he walked closer and closer to Dele his resolve started to falter. The anger that had consumed him gave way to a much more desperate feeling and when he finally reached Dele his voice cracked as he spoke. 

“Is it true? You don’t want to come to Portugal?” It felt as though the whole room was holding its breath and Dele looked between him and Kyle, brow furrowed and mouth open. Eric kept his eyes trained on Dele, on the way his thumbs danced across his fingertips and the way his teeth dragged against his bottom lip. His vision was funnelled and all he could see was the man standing in front of him and when Dele finally opened his mouth to speak Eric felt as though everything was collapsing in on him. 

“Eric I - I just - I” Dele stuttered, half rocking on his feet as if he wanted to step towards him but couldn’t. Eric didn’t wait for a second longer, he could feel the tears threatening to fall and he pushed past Kyle, holding Dele’s stare for a nanosecond before he stalked out into the lobby, scolding himself for thinking that there was anything he could ever have done to make Dele say yes. 

 

***

 

His clothes were scattered everywhere and Eric darted around the room, grabbing at them and shoving them in his bag. He had arrived back at the hotel with his ears still ringing, the nervous energy that had engulfed him as he’d approached Dele still coursing through his veins. He’d tried to calm himself down when he’d finally entered the solace of his room but he couldn’t sit still. His head was pounding and with each passing second he had thought of another thing he could have said to Kyle, another way he could have spoken to Dele. He should have asked to talk to him alone instead of just marching over and demanding an answer. He laughed at himself as he dropped down onto the bed, the leather strap of his travel bag wrapped around his knuckles. There were a lot of things Eric was good at but fucking things up really did seem to be his forte. 

He studied his hand as he closed his fingers in a fist, the leather biting into the skin on his palm. The silence in the hotel room deafened him and he grabbed his phone out of his pocket with his free hand, flipping it round to unlock it. The empty screen stared back up at him and his heart sank. He didn’t know what he had been expecting but he had left Hotspur Way over an hour ago. He wondered what Dele had done after he’d left. Had he laughed it off and made a flippant comment? Turned around to go after him but decided against it? The thoughts whirred around his brain and he swore at how fucking pathetic it all was. How fucking pathetic he was. The anger that he had felt towards Kyle had taken a sharp swing inwards on the way back to the hotel and he swore again as he scolded himself for being such a dickhead. “You are a fucking coward Dier,” he said to himself through gritted teeth. He unwound the strap from his hand and the bag thudded to the floor. He lay back on the bed and rubbed at his eyes with his knuckles. An image of Dele entered his head and he rolled onto his stomach, placing his head in his hands as he tried to focus his thoughts.

A jagged breath rattled in his chest as he realised how stupid he was. How stupid he had always been. How was it only now that he realised that the narrative he had created around him and Dele had become skewed? How had he actually convinced himself that it had been him that had driven what had happened between them? Because from where he was now lay it was blatantly obvious that he couldn’t be trusted to do one brave thing when it came to the two of them. He couldn’t make one right decision. 

Everything that had happened between them, it had all been down to Dele. 

He shifted and pulled himself up before lying back down on his back. The late afternoon light was starting to fade and shadows danced across the walls as he thought about how their story had been written in rooms just like the one he was now in. Dele in Russia with a kiss and a joke and a twinkle in his eye. Dele in Madrid with a kiss and a joke and the softness of his mouth. Dele in Guimaraes with a kiss and a song and the way they had slotted together. Those three months they’d had together, everything they had shared, had happened not because of him but because of Dele. 

_ Dele.  _

Just as he was about to pick up his phone and make a call a knock sounded at the door. Eric sat up and took a deep breath, picturing Harry stood on the other side waiting to give him a rollicking for being a twat. He clambered off the bed and walked slowly across the room. As soon as he opened the door the breath was almost knocked out of him. He shook his head as a blur of black barged past him, the smell of a familiar aftershave making his heart jump. 

“For the record Kyle had no right to do any talking for me,” Dele’s voice was low and Eric turned around slowly, greeted with the sight of him stood there in a baggy tracksuit. The soft light from the lamp on the bedside table threw Dele’s features into relief and Eric’s stomach lurched as he realised his eyes looked puffy. Eric lifted his arms out, prepared to start talking but Dele held up his hands and looked him square in the eye. “Let me speak. I need to say this whilst I have it all in my head.” The command in his tone rooted Eric to the spot and he nodded, hands falling back down against his side. Silence stretched between them and Eric watched as Dele tugged the sleeves over his hands and rocked on the balls of his feet. The action made Dele look so young that Eric almost stumbled forward at the force with which a random memory hit him. Dele stood in his kitchen, soaking wet through with Eric’s hoodie hanging off his frame. As he waited for Dele to speak his heart ached at how much he looked like the Dele he had fallen in love with and it took every inch of his restraint not to close the gap between them and gather him in his arms. 

“What are we doing here Eric? I told you I loved you, that you leaving broke me. I told you I was scared and that if I let you back in I wouldn’t want to let go. And then you were in my house yesterday and fuck it was like nothing had changed right? You were there and I couldn’t help it. I wanted you and I wanted to kiss you and I never wanted it to end. But then Kyle turned up and you left and I sat on my stairs and I couldn’t think straight. You asked me to go to Portugal with you. You asked me and you are looking at me now like you need an answer and I know you need an answer but I don’t know which answer to give you.”

Dele’s words were rushed and garbled and he stuttered as he took three steps towards Eric a pleading look in his eye. Eric swallowed around the lump in his throat and he stared back at Dele, trying to find the right way to respond. Everything between them was balanced on a knife edge and he was well aware that whatever happened between them now in this room could decide whether they had a future or not. Before he could speak, Dele stepped forward again. Eric’s hands twitched with the need to reach out and touch him but Dele lifted his arms behind his head as he spoke. 

“Do you know what you do to me? Fuck, all you are doing is standing in front of me and I can feel my heart tying itself up in knots. I physically ache when I look at you. Physically ache with the need to touch you, to have you touch me. It’s overwhelming Eric, the way you make me feel. The fact that even now, five years later it hasn’t changed. But to come to Portugal with you? For what, a few days, a week, the summer? I could say yes and we could go and be wrapped up in this little bubble but then what? It can’t last forever and I would have to come back and I don’t know if I can say goodbye to you again Eric, not like that.”

Eric’s head was spinning and he wanted to shout, to tell Dele that everything he had just said was exactly how Dele made him feel. That he was terrified and that he felt like he was holding this tiny fragile thing in the palm of his hand and wrong one move would shatter it all to pieces. That he was trying to be brave, that he was trying to fight past the feeling that all he was capable of was destroying whatever it was they had between them. 

“I love you,” he whispered and he hoped to god it was enough to convey every single emotion that Dele had written over his heart since he’d walked into his life all those years ago. Dele dropped his hands and Eric took a step forward. He raised his arms and stared at his hands as he wrapped his fingers around Dele’s wrists, registering the beat of his pulse under his fingertips. He steadied himself, using Dele’s heartbeat to even out his breathing. 

“I love you. I loved you back then and I love you now. Whether that is enough, I don’t know but I mean it. We wasted so much time Del. I wasted so much time. I fucked up and I’m here, stood in front of you asking you to give me a chance to fix it. I asked you to come to Portugal because I can’t bear the thought of leaving London and not seeing you again. I can’t bear the thought of this being it, not now. I don’t know what lies beyond that, I don’t know how we make this work. But I want to figure that out. I’m sorry I left you. I’m sorry I broke your heart. I fucked up, spectacularly. I know this is hard, I know what saying yes means, what that would require from you. All I am asking is that you consider it, that you don’t write us off, don’t write me off. I love you Del.”

Dele stepped forward and kissed the words from his mouth, his palms cradling Eric’s face. It was a desperate kiss and the thought passed Eric’s mind that it could be a goodbye and he grabbed onto Dele’s waist, bunching the thick material of his hoodie in his fists. They broke apart but Eric didn’t let go and Dele dropped his head onto Eric’s shoulder. He took a deep breath and Eric steeled himself for whatever was coming next. 

“I love you too,” Dele breathed as he wound his arms around Eric’s waist. Eric pulled him close and Dele turned his head to the side. “Fuck Eric how did we get here?” he asked and Eric squeezed his eyes shut. He shook his head and pressed his lips to Dele’s forehead. “My heart doesn’t want to let you go but my head knows that sooner or later we are going to have to say goodbye again and I don’t know if I can handle it. Not for a third time.”

Eric’s released his grip on Dele’s hoodie and enveloped his arms around him. He didn’t know what to say, what to do to convince Dele that this time would be different because he was having a hard time convincing himself. “You don’t have to answer right now,” he said softly, nudging his shoulder so that Dele lifted his head. He knew Dele needed this. He needed the reassurance that Eric understood how he felt. And he did, even if it felt like his heart might unravel at the thought of Dele deciding he didn’t want to go. 

“I have to leave in two days. I can book you a ticket, you don’t have to use it.”

“I want to Eric, more than you know. I just don’t know if I can.”

And with that Dele caressed his cheek and kissed him gently on the side of his mouth. Eric stayed still as Dele stepped around him and walked to the door, a soft whooshing sound followed by a small click letting him know he was gone. A sharp breath ripped through Eric’s chest and he stumbled forwards, twisting as he fell back onto the bed. His head was a mess. Dele loved him, that much he knew but he had no clue what was going to happen. He had seen the conflict in his eyes, the confusion on his face as he’d battled with the way he felt for Eric and the knowledge that saying yes would change everything. But it hadn’t been a no and that was what he had to hold onto as he stared at the ceiling and thought about the last time Dele had left him in a hotel room with the feeling that he might never see him again. 

  
  



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